


Nightmares

by Titch360



Series: My Version of Events [58]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 02:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: The power of mind over matter is a great thing, but what happens when your mind isn't on your side?STOP.  If you haven't read Dark Days, Black Nights, School of Wrong, or Sour Sweet, now might be a good time to do that, since this story draws heavily from those three works, and can be seen as a direct sequel to all of them.





	Nightmares

Nightmares

 

“What is it with you, Batman?”

Two Face taunted the Dark Knight as he slashed at Batman’s head with his switchblade.

“Why can’t you keep your underlings alive when I’m involved?  I expected a little more from this one.”

Batman was asking himself the same question as he dodged another strike.  Glancing past his doubled adversary, Batman could see Robin laying face down on the cold ground.  A knife wound, caused by the same weapon that was now stabbing and slashing at Batman, dribbled blood onto the concrete warehouse floor from the right side of Robin’s face.  The slash started just below Robin’s right eye, traveled through his mask, and ended just in front of Robin’s right ear.

_The cut doesn’t look that bad from here.  It’s barely bleeding at all.  I don’t think it will even leave a scar.  So, why is Robin down?  Or, does he have more than just that injury?  His cape is in the way, I can’t tell if he’s breathing from here._

Batman brought his fist slamming down on Two Face’s right hand, dislodging the knife from his grip and sending it skittering across the warehouse floor.  Two Face almost seemed to expect that move.  He performed a quick spin and faced Batman again, this time with twin pistols filling his hands.  Batman dropped and rolled out of the path of both barrels, one shiny chrome, the other flat black.  Batman positioned himself to sweep Two Face’s legs out from under him, but a quick look told him that move wouldn’t be necessary, or appreciated.

While Batman had been dodging, Robin used the distraction to pop to his feet and charge at Two Face from behind.  Robin hit the criminal hard from behind, slamming his shoulder into the small of the man’s back.  At least, he hit as hard as he could, weighing only one hundred thirty pounds, and only having eight feet between himself and the criminal to build up speed.

Still, it was enough to stagger Two Face, and throw off his aim.  Batman used the distraction to sweep in and disarm the man.  Robin continued pushing forward, until Two Face toppled over, and boy and bad guy hit the warehouse floor.

Robin began raining heavy blows down on the back of Two Face’s head.  The teen had thought about this moment for two years.  He had dreamed about getting his hands on Two Face, and what he would do if he were allowed just five minutes alone with the man.

Robin’s sense of vengeance kept Batman close by, but Batman’s knowledge of Robin’s sense of justice kept the man from interfering.

Robin slammed the insensate criminal’s head into the ground with a frustrated grunt before leaning back.  With a sigh that was more than half growl, Robin stood and limped over to Batman.

_Why is he limping?  What happened before I caught up to them?_

It had been a wild night in Gotham City.  Batman and Robin had responded to a bank robbery, a shooting, three muggings, and been involved in a high-speed chase following a carjacking before Commissioner Gordon sent up the signal and informed the Dynamic Duo that Two Face was terrorizing the financial district.  Unfortunately, Gordon had neglected to inform Batman that Two Face had broken out of Arkham Asylum a week earlier, during a prison riot.  This was the second time Two Face had broken out in a month and a half, and Batman now realized why he had been so easy to recapture the last time he escaped.  Two Face had used the three hours he had been free last time to pull together resources and operatives to facilitate his current escape and actions.

His attempt to break into the Gotham County Court House Records had been well-planned.  Two Face wanted to destroy the court records in the hopes of facilitating release on appeal for himself and his gang.  Without the record of conviction, most of the cases had a chance of being overturned.

His plot had been thwarted by two small facts.  One, Gotham court records had all been digitized two years ago, and the servers were stored offsite.  Two, a Johnny-on-the-spot security guard sounded the silent alarm, instead of trying to be a hero by taking on the intruders himself.  Instead of killing the inept guards and fleeing before the police could be called, Two Face and his men had been met by a SWAT team.  Four of Two Face’s men tried to shoot it out with the SWAT team, so Two Face and six of his men could escape.  The four shooters put up a valiant fight, but they were no match for the highly trained officers.

Their deaths were not in vain, though.  They bought Two Face enough time to flee.  At least, enough time to flee from the police.  Batman and Robin had watched the entire escape from a nearby rooftop.  When Two Face moved off, and it became obvious that the SWAT team wasn’t going to get him, the Dynamic Duo sprang into action.

Batman and Robin squared off with Two Face and his men in the middle of an intersection, two blocks south of the courthouse.  While his underlings rushed into battle, Two Face continued south.  Determined not to let their enemy get away, Robin only took down one of Two Face’s men before sprinting after the bifurcated bad guy.

Batman wasn’t sure yet what happened while Robin was out of his sight, but the last thing he ever wanted to see was Two Face standing over his fallen son.

Robin limped up to Batman, who looked down and asked, “Feel better?”

“Not in the least,” Robin said in a frustrated growl, “You’ve been a bad influence on me.  I can’t kill him, no matter how much he deserves it.”

Batman hid his smirk, “You did the right thing.”

“Yeah,” Robin said, “but I owe him so much more than this.”

Two Face stirred on the warehouse floor, and growled out, “Why did you stop him, Batman?  This kid has potential.  He’s got more to him than your other brats did.  I think he’s more like me than like you.  He’s definitely better suited to the role than that informant you tried to use against me a couple years ago.  Tell me, did you ever find his body?  How did he look?  How long do you think it took him to die, in that cold, dark, concrete box?”

Robin gasped, _He’s talking about me!  At least he doesn’t think I survived his torture, so he won’t think about connecting the two of us._

“That’s enough, Harvey,” Batman growled.

Two Face, of course, didn’t listen.  He knew he was getting under Batman’s skin.  “Do you still think of him?  How long do you think he cried for you, in that little room, all alone?  How abandoned did he feel?  He was in there almost a week, before you invaded my school.  That’s long enough to go a little mad before his eventual death.  What was his name again?  Do you even remember?”

“Harvey,” Batman growled sharply.

“I remember,” Two Face said with an evil grin, “He called himself Rome.”

Robin flinched hard at hearing that name again.

Two Face laughed, “I guess he’s roaming around the Pearly Gates, now.”

Robin turned and ran at Two Face.  The mouthy criminal looked surprised as Robin kicked the prone man in the face, flipping him over with the strength behind his kick and rendering him unconscious.

Standing over the man, glaring furiously, Robin shouted, “Batman told you to shut the fuck up!”

Batman appeared behind Robin and dragged the teen away, “Enough, Robin.  That’s enough.”

Robin looked up at Batman, and the Dark Knight was surprised to find Robin looking lost under his anger.

“Do I want to know what that was about?”

Batman and Robin looked over to see Commissioner Gordon and three officers entering the warehouse.  Batman and Robin turned their ‘vigilante’ faces on again and headed for the exit.

“No, you don’t,” Batman said shortly, “Try to keep him in Arkham this time.  Don’t you get tired of these plots and schemes?  We do.”

Gordon turned and watched the Dynamic Duo leave the warehouse.  _That’s strange.  Two Face must have made this a hard night for them.  This Robin never loses it like that.  I wonder what happened.  Must have been bad, for Robin to be limping like that._

Batman waited until they were securely in the Batmobile and on their way home before asking, “Why are you limping?”

“Two Face kicked me in the knee,” Robin mumbled.

“Which one?”

“The fake one,” Robin said, “It hyperextended.  I didn’t know a prosthetic knee joint _could_ hyperextend.”

“Did it hurt,” Batman asked.

“Yes, it did,” Robin replied.

“How?  Can you actually feel that knee?  I’ve always wondered that.”

Robin shrugged, “It’s still my knee.  It’s still attached to my bones.  Maybe I didn’t feel the joint itself, but he still kicked me.”

“Is that why you were down when I came in?”

“Well, that’s part of it,” Robin said, “He punched me in the back of the head after he kicked me.  I just needed a second to clear my head.  That’s when you came in.”

Batman absorbed the information.  _Good, he wasn’t down long when I came in._   “How about your face,” Batman asked darkly.

“Oh, that,” Robin said, “He got lucky.  It’s barely a scratch.”

Batman sighed, “He cut through your mask.  He could have got your eye.”

Robin reached up.  Even through his gloves, he could feel the slash through his mask.  “He didn’t, though.  This is nothing.  I cut myself worse than this shaving this morning.”

Unfortunately, it was true.  Damian Wayne, former assassin and world-class expert with any number of bladed weapons, couldn’t master the proper use of a disposable safety razor.  Bruce had thought Damian was attacked the first time the boy shaved on his own.  Damian just got too impatient to complete the task without slicing up his face.  Dick thought Damian did it purposefully, so either Bruce of Alfred would perform the task for him.  Bruce thought he would give Damian one of his birthday presents early, an electric razor, just to save Damian some trouble.  Bruce was just glad that Damian didn’t have to shave more than twice a week at this point.  The teen would need blood transfusions if he had to shave daily.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Batman asked, “Why did you go off on Two Face like that?”

Robin sighed heavily and stared at his lap, “Because he was right.”

“What do you mean,” Batman asked curiously.

Robin spoke softly, “What he said, about my time in his box, that was almost all true.  I wasn’t unconscious my whole time in there, just the last day or so.  The rest of the time…I _did_ cry.  I _did_ call out for you.  I _did_ lose hope that I would ever get out of that cell.  I _did_ start to lose my mind.  That must be why I reacted the way you all told me I did when you finally came for me.  Why did Two Face have to bring that up?”

Batman took a deep breath before he replied, “Because he doesn’t know who you are.  He doesn’t know that you are the same person he locked in that room, and he’ll never find out.  He’s convinced that you died in that room, because the only reason you survived is because you’re incredibly strong.  A lesser person would have died in there, but you’re better than that.  He holds that as a victory over me, and he’ll bring it up every time he loses to us.”

Robin shook his head, “Let’s hope he stays locked up for a long time, this time.”

Batman nodded, “Yes.  For now, let’s get you home and cleaned up.  You have a surprise waiting for you at home.”

Robin’s look brightened, “I do?  What is it?”

Batman almost smiled, “It’s a surprise.  Something you’ve wanted for a while.”

“A go-kart,” Robin asked excitedly.

“No,” Batman said, “I think you’ll like this a little more.”

Batman and Robin stretched as they stepped out of the Batmobile.  Damian peeled off his mask as Bruce pulled off his cowl.  Bruce stepped in front of his son and peeled off the last bit of Robin’s mask, the part Two Face had completely severed from the rest of the mask.

Holding up the small piece, Bruce said, “You need to be more careful, Damian.”

Damian sighed, “Yes, Father.  How does the cut look?”

Bruce tilted Damian’s head back, to shine more light on the area, “Not bad at all.  That shouldn’t leave a scar, and if it does, it will hardly be noticeable.”

“Robin will notice it,” Damian said, “She seems to keep track of all the marks on my body.”

“There better not be any new marks for me to keep track of.”

Damian gasped deeply as a new voice filled his ears.  He turned as Robin came rushing up and hugged the younger teen tightly.  Damian returned the hug just as tightly and looked over Robin’s shoulder at his father.

Bruce shrugged and smiled, “Surprise.”

Bruce was overjoyed with the look of contentment on Damian’s face.  He turned and headed for the locker room, and called over his shoulder, “Have that checked out, then get cleaned up.  Good to see you, Robin.”

The couple hugged for another minute before Robin pulled back and gazed at Damian’s face.  For the first time in almost two years, Robin didn’t have to look down to look into his eyes.

“You grew again.”

Damian smiled, “About time, right?”

“Right,” Robin said with a smile, “So, what are these marks…really?  What happened to your face?”

Damian fingered his cheek, just below his right eye, “This is just a scratch.  It barely bled at all.”

Robin gently turned Damian’s head, “And how do you explain your cheeks?”

Robin didn’t understand the blush forming under her fingers, until Damian said, “Yeah, that.  Well…that has nothing to do with patrolling, or action on the streets.”

“It better not,” Robin said, “It looks like you lost whatever battle it was, though.”

Damian shrugged, “You’re not too far off.”

“Were you fighting with your brothers,” Robin questioned.

“No.”

“Then, what is it?”

Damian took a deep breath, “I, um, I started shaving more regularly recently.  I’m…I’m just not good at it.”

The only thing that kept Damian from snapping at the barely restrained snort of laughter was that it came from Robin.  He would have at least taken a swing at his brothers, if they gave the same reaction.

Damian rolled his eyes with a sigh, “You’ve never cut yourself while shaving your legs?”

“Of course I have,” Robin said with a smile, “but my cuts never looked like they required stitches.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Damian said in an exasperated tone, “Come on, Alfred is waiting in the medical bay to look at my cut.”

“Why are you limping,” Robin asked as they walked across the cave.  Damian had been hanging on to Robin tightly, and the girl noticed his altered gait.

“I got kicked in the knee,” Damian said, biting his cheek to try to distract from the pain in his leg.

The pair entered the medical bay to find the butler waiting patiently.  “Good evening, Master Damian.  Let’s take a look at your injuries.”

Damian hopped up on the exam table with some difficulty, which Alfred called him on.  “What other injuries will I be inspecting, young sir?”

Alfred rubbed antibiotic cream over Damian’s cheek as the teen said, “My right knee.  I got kicked.”

Alfred washed the cream off of his hands, then said, “Very well.  Miss Robin, if you will wait outside for this?”

Damian grabbed on to Robin’s arm before she could move and asked Alfred in a confused tone, “Why?”

“You will need to drop your pants for me to inspect your knee,” Alfred said.

Damian smirked, “Are you worried about my modesty, or hers?  She’s seen it before, and she is going to see it again tonight.”

Alfred stared at the teens for a second, then asked, “Miss Robin, are you comfortable with this?”

Robin smiled, “I think I can handle it.”

Damian stood, took off his utility belt, and dropped his pants.  He sat down again and propped his leg up on the table.  Alfred leaned closer and squeezed the knee gently.  Damian flinched, and Alfred asked, “You say you got kicked.  What happened?”

Damian tried not to wince as Alfred pressed and flexed his knee.  “I was fighting Two Face.  He distracted me with his knife, then kicked me in the knee, to try to get away.  I heard a pop, the joint bent backwards, I started to fall over, he punched me in the back of the head, and I hit the ground.”

Alfred shook his head, “Where was your father while you were facing off against one of Gotham’s deadliest criminals?”

“Outside,” Damian said, “Finishing up Two Face’s goons.  I couldn’t stand the thought of him getting away.  I, kinda, left Father alone.  He showed up in the warehouse just after I hit the floor.”

Alfred nodded slowly, “Well, you will have a bruise in the morning, and you probably will be sore for a day or two.  As this is the first injury you have sustained to your artificial knee, perhaps we should make an appointment with Dr. Thompkins, to get a professional opinion.”

Damian nodded, “If you hadn’t suggested it, I would have.  It’s never felt like this before.”

“I shall make the appointment in the morning,” Alfred said,” In the meantime, get cleaned up and get to bed.  It is rather late.  You should also take it easy tomorrow.”

Damian smiled as he stood and pulled his pants back up, “I think I can handle that.”

The couple walked through the locker room and into the showers.  Robin stood back and watched as Damian began pulling off his uniform.

“Is it okay for me to be back here,” Robin asked.

Damian looked up and smiled at the teen, “Father already went up to bed.  Alfred is on his way up.  I’m sure my brothers are already upstairs.  As long as we don’t make a mess, it’s fine.”

Damian stepped into the shower, and was joined several seconds later, after Robin stripped out of her own clothes.

“I think we can keep it clean,” Robin said as she began washing Damian’s hair.

Damian soaped himself up, then hugged Robin tightly, to share the suds, “Exactly how clean do you want to be?”

“There’s a condom in my pants pocket,” Robin whispered in Damian’s ear.

Damian gave an ear to ear grin as he rinsed the soap and shampoo off of his body, “Right, dirty it is.  I’ll be right back.”

“Hello?”

Damian and Robin froze as a new voice sounded from the locker room.

“It’s Dick,” Damian hissed.

Robin glanced out of the shower, which was easily done.  None of the shower stalls in the cave had doors or curtains.  She glared at her boyfriend, “You said he was upstairs.”

“I thought he was.”

“Is someone down here,” Dick asked, “Who left the shower on?”

The voice was getting closer.  Damian sighed, “Stay here.  I’ll get rid of him.”

“Is there anyone in here,” Dick called out.

“Stay there, Dick,” Damian called back.

“Damian?  What are you doing down here so late?”

The voice was still getting closer.  Damian stuck his head out of the shower stall, and his eyes widened as he saw Dick only a couple feet away from the shower.  “I said, don’t come in here!”

Damian darted out of the shower to grab the towel off of the bench.  He tried to cover himself, but he didn’t quite manage to keep his oldest brother from seeing too much.

Dick rolled his eyes, “Damian, if you want some privacy, you have a bathroom of your own upstairs.  Come on, it’s late.  I want to take a shower, so I can go…”

Dick trailed off as he looked at the bench again and saw two sets of clothes, belonging to two completely different Robins.  His eyes widened, “Oh, my god.  Why didn’t you just say you weren’t alone in here?”

Damian handed the towel to Robin, then stuck his head out of the shower again, “Because, unless I told you exactly what I was doing, you still would have come in.  Robin has now blushed the same color as my uniform, so can you go away, so we can get dressed and get out of here?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” Dick said, turning to leave the bathroom, “Uh, sorry, Robin.  Didn’t know you were here.  Nice to see you again.”

The teen girl gasped and wrapped the towel tightly around her.

“DICK,” Damian yelled.

“Figuratively,” Dick called out awkwardly, “Figuratively see you.  I didn’t actually see you.”

Damian watched until Dick left the bathroom, then turned back to Robin and said, “He’s gone.  You can get your clothes now.”

Robin shook her head, “No, I’m not leaving this shower.  You get them.”

Damian smiled, “Can I at least have the towel, so I can get started drying off?”

Robin shook her head again, “Why?  He already saw you naked.  He’s _your_ brother, so it’s not a big deal if he sees you naked.  I don’t think either of us want him seeing me.”

Damian shook his head and gestured to his waist, “Yeah, well, it’s the first time he’s seen me…like this.”

Robin stared expectantly at Damian, “Either way, I’m not leaving this shower until I’m fully dressed.”

Damian sighed and wiped his hands on the towel before stepping out of the shower again.  Damian returned with the girl’s clothes and said, “Trade you?”

Damian was disappointed with how quickly Robin got dressed.  Damian dried himself and pulled his pajamas on, and the couple left the bathroom.

“Did you at least clean up after yourselves,” Dick asked as the teens exited from the bathroom into the locker room.

Robin blushed a bright red.  Damian walked up to Dick and punched him in the stomach.  Even though it hurt, and forced most of the wind out of Dick, the older man could tell that Damian pulled his punch.

“We didn’t get that far, thanks to you.”

“Sorry,” Dick coughed.  “Why did you hit me, though?”

Damian glanced over his shoulder, then back at Dick, “You made my girlfriend feel really uncomfortable in what, one day, will be her home.  That’s _not_ okay.”

Dick looked up, “I’m sorry, Robin.”

“Why were you even out patrolling,” Damian asked, “I thought tonight was date night with Barbara.”

Dick shrugged, “Date got cancelled.  Thought I’d do something good for the city, instead of moping around here.  Heard you two had a rough night.”

Damian nodded while throwing an arm around Robin’s waist, “It was worth it.  We got Two Face off the streets.”

Dick smiled, “Good, he’s back where he belongs.”

“Yep,” Damian said, “And now, we’re going to go where we belong.  Good night.”

Two minutes later, Damian closed his bedroom door and smiled at Robin.

“We are locked in and all alone now.  Did you want to pick up where we left off?”

Damian walked up to Robin, who wrapped her arms around Damian’s neck, “Can we just talk a bit first?”

“We can do whatever you want,” Damian said softly.

Robin unbuttoned Damian’s shirt and dropped it to the floor.  Damian smiled as Robin’s fingers trailed down Damian’s chest, to hitch in the waistband of his pajama pants.

“Take those off,” Robin said quietly as she turned and took her own clothes off.  “Just because I want to talk, doesn’t mean I don’t want to look at all of you while we do it.”

Robin was pulling the sheets back on Damian’s bed as Damian wrapped his arms around the teen from behind.  Damian kissed Robin’s shoulder, slowly trailing small kisses up her neck, and along her jaw.

Damian nibbled at Robin’s earlobe before whispering, “What did you want to talk about?”

Robin was leaning her ear closer to Damian’s mouth as she moaned, “Mmm.  This.”

“I thought so,” Damian said softly.

Robin turned in Damian’s arms and met his lips with her own.  Robin pulled Damian’s lip into her mouth with her teeth and lightly gnawed on it.  “God, I’ve missed you,” Robin breathed.

Robin backed up and laid down on the bed.  She was slightly confused when Damian didn’t follow her.  Instead, Damian crouched down, fished the condom out of Robin’s pants pocket, held it up with a smirk, and asked, “What else did you want to talk about?”

Robin beckoned Damian over seductively and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.”

_Later…_

Robin laid on her side on the bed, curled up securely in the cocoon of Damian’s arms.  Damian held the girl tightly to his chest, gently inhaling the familiar and comforting scent of her hair.

“Damian,” Robin whispered.

“Mm-hm,” Damian responded, not opening his eyes.

“Can you loosen up a bit?  I can’t breathe.”

Damian opened his eyes and looked down to see Robin held tightly in his arms.  Personally, he felt that was exactly where she belonged.  “But I don’t want to let go of you.  You’re the best thing I’ve held in my arms in months.”

Robin blushed a bit, “My friends didn’t believe me when I told them how strong you are.  I don’t want bruises or a doctor’s note to be my proof.”

Damian loosened his grip at the word ‘bruises’.  “I don’t want to hurt you.  I just can’t believe you’re here.  I didn’t have to bug Father, or anything.”  Damian cocked his head as he thought about what Robin said, “Wait, you talk to you friends about things like that?”

Robin shrugged, “They really liked you, when they finally got to meet you at my birthday.  You made them all really jealous, and me really proud.  I put you in an uncomfortable situation with them at my party, and you came through for me.  I did have to be kinda hard on Janelle last month, though.  She wanted to invite you out to go to her birthday party.”

Damian smiled, “Why would that have been so bad?  We could have seen each other.”

“She had a pool party,” Robin said flatly, “She, and the rest of my friends, wanted to see you without a shirt on.”

“You would really want to make them _that_ jealous,” Damian asked.

Robin turned over to stare into his eyes.  Her fingers landed lightly on Damian’s chest, and she said quietly, “This should be shared with the world, but at the same time, I want you all to myself.”

Damian gave his true, soft smile, and asked quietly, “Did you want to take a new picture to show them?”

“I definitely want new pictures,” Robin said, “but, I don’t think you want me sharing them with them.”

Damian reached behind him and grabbed the girl’s phone off of the nightstand.  He held the phone up and took a picture of the both of them.

Robin gasped when she realized what he did, “Damian!  What are you doing?  We can’t take pictures like this.”

While Robin was talking, Damian had grabbed his own phone and taken a second picture.

“Are you kidding me right now,” Robin asked.

Damian smiled at his girlfriend, “Why can’t we take pictures like this?  It’s not like we haven’t shown a little more skin than necessary over Skype from time to time.  We’re both consenting.”

“We’re both naked,” Robin retorted.

“And?”

Robin took her phone and looked at the picture for a second.  “You can see everything.”

“And,” Damian repeated with a smile.

Robin finally gave a small grin, “And, we look really good.”

Robin looked up with a smirk, “Are you telling me that _this_ is the picture you want me to show to my friends?”

Damian leaned in and kissed Robin, “That one is just for you.  I did say that I would pose for a picture for you, though.  What would you like?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this,” Robin asked.  “I mean, what about your scars?  I know you’re still touchy about those.”

“We’re you planning on taking a picture of my back,” Damian asked.

Robin shook her head and said, “Well, no.”  Her fingers rose to the thick scar marring the left side of Damian’s chest.  “We can’t really hide this one, though.”

“I know,” Damian said.  “We don’t have to hide it.  They’re part of me, I’ve come to terms with them.  They’re not my favorite part of my body, but I wouldn’t be ‘me’ without them.”

Robin smiled softly at Damian before her look flattened, “I must be an idiot for asking this to a teenage boy, but what is your favorite part of your body?”

Damian gave a knowing smile, and Robin rolled her eyes, “I knew it.”

Damian chuckled, “It’s not what you think.”

Robin pointed at Damian, “If you say…”

“It’s my eyes,” Damian interrupted.

Robin stared at the blue orbs in shock, “What?”

“My eyes,” Damian repeated.

“Why,” Robin asked curiously.

“Because they’re my father’s eyes.  Mother went to town with the genetic engineering on me, but she couldn’t stop that little bit of my Father from coming through.  All of my features are a fifty-fifty blend of Mother and Father, but my eyes are one hundred percent Father.  These aren’t Al-Ghul eyes.  These are Wayne eyes.  It makes me think that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Robin leaned in and kissed Damian, “Hearing things like that just make me love you more.”

Damian sighed, “Okay, what is your favorite part of my body?”

“Your hands,” Robin said immediately, as if she had thought about the question for years.

Damian cocked his head, “Why?”

“Because I know what they’re capable of.  I’ve seen them beat bad guys, and break stuff.  I’ve seen them grip, and lift, and throw.  But, for as tough as they are, they’re also so gentle.  Those hands have bandaged my mother when she hurt herself, and brushed my sister’s hair back when she was sick.  They have held my hands and brushed my face.  I think I trust your hands more than I trust my own, and that makes me love them, and you.”

Damian pulled Robin in tight and whispered in her ear, “Thank you.”

“Do we want to turn this around,” Robin asked.

“And talk about you,” Damian asked.

Robin nodded.

“Okay, but my answer isn’t really original,” Damian said, “Like my favorite part of me, my favorite part of you is your eyes.  They say that the eyes are the eyes are the window to the soul.  Yours are bright, and honest, and innocent.  I get mesmerized by them.  It’s so easy to get lost in your eyes.  Your eyes sparkle.  They instantly improve my mood, just by looking at them.  And, even before we met, green has always been my favorite color.”

Robin gave a slight sniffle with a smile, “And here I thought you were going to say my legs, or butt, or chest.”

“Those are all great, too,” Damian said softly, “but when we’re apart for a long time, your eyes are what I miss first.  You see, they look different when we talk over Skype than they do in person.  Your legs, or your chest, or your butt, all look the same on camera and in person, but a camera can’t capture how stunning your eyes are in person.”

Robin gave a contented sigh, “When you talk like that, it just makes me melt.”

The couple stared at each other adoringly for several minutes before Robin said, “I hate to ruin the mood, but let’s take this picture before we fall asleep, or whatever else we end up doing.”

Damian nodded and handed Robin her phone, “So, should I just pull the sheet up?”

“Yes,” Robin said immediately.

Damian did, and Robin smiled as she took the picture.

Staring at her phone, Robin said, “I can’t show this one to my friends.  It’s too sexy.  How about another one?”

Damian shrugged, “Whatever you want.”

Robin nodded, and a smile played across her lips as she thought out loud, “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking.  You should be standing, maybe in front of your closet, so it doesn’t look like we were just in bed together…I mean, never mind.  How about you put on a pair of jeans?  Just jeans, though.  No shirt, no shoes.”

Damian walked into his closet, and walked out wearing a pair of blue jeans, “Like this?”

Robin looked at her boy, then adjusted the pants, so they sat lower on his hips.  Robin then looked Damian in the eye and asked, “You’re sure you don’t mind if my friends see your scars?”

“Are you sure you want them seeing pictures like this at all,” Damian asked.

Robin cocked her head and asked, “Wait, why are you okay with it?”

Damian blushed a bit, “When you told me they were jealous of you, because of me, and that they liked me, it made me feel really good about myself.  I used to be embarrassed, hearing things like that.  I like it now.  I almost wish I could see their reactions when you show them.”

Robin smiled, “Okay.  Now, hook your thumbs in the top of your pants, and push them down just a little bit…there, just like that.  Now, flex a little, without looking like you’re trying to…oh, my god.”

“What,” Damian asked.

Robin shook her head, “No, it’s just…damn, you’re hot.  Hold it like that.”

Robin took two quick pictures, then said, “Okay, one more.  This time, turn your head to the side.  No, the other side, se we can’t see where you cut yourself.  Don’t want my friends thinking you tried to commit suicide.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “How many times do I have to tell you that I cut myself shaving?”

“With a weed whacker?”

Damian sighed heavily and Robin took the picture.

Following the modeling session, the teens returned to the bed and yawned mightily.  Damian smiled at his girl and said, “I still can’t believe you’re actually here.  How did this all come about?”

Robin’s smile flattened a bit, “Dad gave me a final answer on the trip to come out here in October.”

Damian sighed, “I’m not going to like this answer, am I?”

Robin shook her head, “No.  We got my class schedule for Senior year, and it looks pretty tough.  I’m taking all AP honors classes, hoping to get ahead and get some college credit.  I, um, I agree with Dad.  I need to focus, if I’m going to do well.”

Damian nodded slowly, “I’m not happy about it, but, then again, I’m never happy when we’re apart.”

Robin sighed, “Damian, I…”

“I’m not mad,” Damian interrupted, “When you explain it that way, it makes sense.  It’s the right decision.”

Robin huffed, “Why do you do that?”

“Do what,” Damian asked, confused at the sudden change in attitude.

“You’re being understanding again.”

Damian snorted, but hid the rest of his laugh.  “I’m very sorry.  I won’t do it again.”

“Are you this accepting with everyone else,” Robin asked.

“Of course not,” Damian said lightly.

“Then, why do you just…accept things like this?”

“Because I love you,” Damian said, “This is your time to buckle down and concentrate.  You were such a big help and support when I was trying to get out of high school.  I can do the same for you now.  If that means you have to stay home and do some hard work, we can deal with that.  Anyway, just because you can’t come out here for the foreseeable future doesn’t mean I can’t go out there for a weekend or two.  I’m just a phone call away when you need me.”

Robin turned her back to Damian and scooted closer to the teen.  Damian’s arms wrapped around Robin again, and Robin sighed, “What did I do to deserve you?”

Damian kissed Robin’s neck lightly, “Whatever it was, I’m glad you did it.”

Robin yawned again, “I love you so much.”

Damian matched the yawn, “I love you, too.  Let’s get some sleep.”  Damian looked at the clock on his nightstand, “Oh.  It’s four-thirty in the morning.”

“We’ve been kinda loud tonight, haven’t we,” Robin asked nervously.

Damian sighed, “I’m sure we’ll hear about it later if we’ve been too loud.  Good night, Beautiful.”

“Good night, Lover.”

_Later…_

Late morning sunlight filtered in through the parted curtains, bathing the bedroom in a warm yellow glow.  Robin stirred and stretched, reveling in the feeling of the arms wrapped around her waist and the warm body pressed against her back.

“Good morning,” Damian said in a scratchy voice.

 _He sounds off,_ Robin thought.  “Morning.  Are you okay?”

Damian rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.  Robin’s question was one he had been asking himself for the last five minutes.  “I don’t know.  I feel kind of worn down, tired, achy.”

Robin rolled to lay next to Damian, and stared at the ceiling as well, “Well, I’m not surprised, with the way you tossed and turned last night.  You had a nightmare.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “I did?  I don’t remember it.”

Robin nodded, “Yeah.  You were moving and moaning and mumbling.  I tried waking you up, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

Damian sighed as he sat up, “I’m sorry I kept you up.  This is the first time I’ve had a nightmare with you around.  That’s kind of disturbing.”

Robin sat up and kissed Damian lightly, “It’s okay.  At least you don’t remember it.”

Damian looked down at himself in disgust, “Geez, I’m sweating like crazy here.  That’s a terrible way to wake up.  I’m going to take a shower before we go down for breakfast.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Robin said.

Damian was half-way to the bathroom before he said, “You can feel free to join me.”

_Downstairs…_

Damian was holding Robin’s hand as the couple entered the dining room.  As Damian expected, Bruce was sitting at the head of the table, reading the Saturday newspaper.

“Good morning, Father.”

“Good morning, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce set the paper down and smiled at the teens, “Good morning, you two.  Thank you for reminding me of two things last night.”

The teens cringed, and Damian thought, _here it comes.  We were too loud._

Bruce continued, “Four and a half months might be too long between visits for you two.”

Damian winced, “And the other thing?”

“Dick gave me the name of a soundproofing company,” Bruce said, “I need to find their number and get an estimate.”

Damian sighed, “Sorry, Father.  We just got…”

“Carried away,” Bruce completed for the boy.

“Yeah.”

Bruce shook his head, “Seriously, you two.  How are you awake right now?  We could hear noises coming through your wall all night.”

“Most of the time, we were just talking,” Damian tried to defend the couple.

“I could still hear your bed creaking when I got up, an hour ago.”

The couple sat down at the table and Robin spoke up, “That wasn’t what you think it was, Mr. Wayne.  What you heard was Damian having a nightmare.  He was tossing and turning for two hours before he finally woke up.”

Bruce regarded his son, “Sounds bad, kiddo.  Want to talk about it?”

Damian shook his head, “Couldn’t have been too bad, Father.  I don’t remember it.  The only way I knew I had a nightmare was Robin telling me about it.  That, and waking up sweating, and feeling kind of sore.”

“Sore, huh,” Bruce asked.  “What are you two planning for today?”

“Alfred told me to take it easy today,” Damian said, “Unless there were other plans, I think we’re just going to relax.  Maybe we’ll watch a movie, or something.”

Alfred walked into the dining room and regarded the new arrivals.  “Good morning.  Are you hungry, Master Damian, Miss Robin?”

Robin looked up and smiled, “Starving, Mr. Alfred.”

Damian just shrugged, “Not really.  I’ll eat, but I don’t seem to have much of an appetite today.”

Bruce eyed Damian.  _He should be starving after the night he had last night.  He said he’s sore, and now he has no appetite.  I wonder…_

“Damian, are you feeling alright?”

Damian looked just as concerned as Bruce felt.  The teen said, “Maybe I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.  I know, it’s my fault for feeling run down and achy.  We’ll rest today, Father.”

 _Run down and achy, too?_   Bruce stood up, walked over, and felt Damian’s forehead. 

Damian glanced up while Bruce held his head in place, “Father?”

“Hmm,” the man said, “You’re a little warm.  Do you feel like you’re getting sick?”

“I better not be,” Damian grumbled, “I can’t be sick while Robin’s here.”

Robin reached over and stroked Damian’s arm, “I’m here all week.  If you’re sick, we’ll deal with it.”

Alfred walked back into the room with food for the teens, and stopped short at the sight before him.  “Master Bruce, is something wrong?”

Bruce took a step back, “He feels a little warm, and he’s complaining of feeling run down and achy.”

“I’m not complaining,” Damian muttered, “but I do feel that way.”

“You’re right, he is a little warm,” Alfred said.  “Try to eat, young sir, while I fetch a thermometer.”

By the time Alfred returned, Damian had pushed his plate away, with barely a handful of bites taken.  Alfred frowned at the plate, and again at the thermometer, which read 99.8.

“You are running a slight temperature, young man.”

“How bad,” Bruce asked.

“Less than one hundred, sir,” Alfred reported, “I would send you back to bed, Master Damian, but your brothers might attempt to murder me for the suggestion.”

Damian’s blush had nothing to do with his fever, this time, “We didn’t wake you up, too, did we, Alfred?”

“No, young sir,” Alfred said with a smile, “I was just regaled with the stories over their breakfast.  Are you sure you don’t want more of your breakfast, young man?”

Damian swallowed hard.  The thought of trying to force down a few more bites, just to appease the butler, was nauseating.  “I’m sure.”

Robin gulped down the last of her breakfast, then said, “How about that movie, instead?”

Damian gave a sad smile to his girlfriend, “Okay.  That sounds good.”

The teens left the dining room, and Alfred turned to Bruce, “He feels quite a bit worse than he is letting on.  I believe he is putting on a brave face for Miss Robin.”

Bruce nodded, “I noticed that, too.  Hopefully, he just needs some rest.”

Damian and Robin spent most of the day in the den, plopped down on the couch in front of the TV.  Even if Damian had been feeling better, the couple most likely would have spent the day exactly where they were.  The pair watched three movies before dinner.  However, Damian fell asleep half way through the second movie, only opening his eyes again as the credits rolled.  He got up, changed the DVD, pulled a blanket over himself, and passed out again before the opening titles of the third movie flashed on the screen.

After the movie was over, and Damian woke up again, he had no choice but to admit to the obvious.  The couple walked to the dining room, and found Bruce and Dick at the table and Alfred entering the room.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the sight of his son, “Damian, are you alright?”

Damian shook his head, and regretted it, then rasped out, “I’m sick.  I feel like shit ran over twice.  I’m going to bed.  I’m sorry, Robin.”

Robin squeezed Damian’s hand, “Don’t be sorry.  I’ll eat quickly, then be up to see how you’re doing.”

Damian took a sad breath, “Take your time.  I’ll be asleep by the time you get upstairs, so you don’t have to hurry.”

Damian squeezed the girl’s hand, and Robin was concerned at the lack of strength in his grip.  Damian left the dining room as Robin sat down in Damian’s normal chair.

Bruce asked the obviously concerned girl gently, “Has he been like that all day?”

Robin shook her head, “No, but I’ve noticed him getting worse all day.  He slept through the entire last movie we watched, and most of the one before that.”

“He obviously needed the rest,” Bruce said.

“I hope he’s okay,” Robin said as she started eating.

_Upstairs…_

Damian was barely able to get his bedroom door closed before his head started spinning.  Walking up the grand staircase had sapped what little strength he had left.  He was shivering violently, and wanted nothing more than to wrap himself up in the thickest quilt he could find.  At the same time, he was sweating profusely.  Damian pulled his t-shirt off and used to wipe sweat off of his forehead and chest before stumbling to his bed.  He dropped the shirt on the floor, then peeled off his jeans, which tried to stick to his legs with sweat.

With the last of his energy, Damian fell into his bed, pulled the comforter over his head, and passed out.  His last thought was a hope for a dreamless and peaceful sleep.

When have Damian’s hopes ever come true?

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What is it with you, Batman?  Why can’t you keep your underlings alive when I’m involved?  I expected a little more from this one.”

Damian opened his eyes to find a confusing sight.  He was laying on the concrete floor of a downtown warehouse, and the voice he heard shouldn’t have been speaking.

_What is Two Face doing here?  What am I doing here?  Didn’t we do this already?  Oh, wait.  I get it.  This is a dream.  It has to be.  Well, at least I know how this one will end.  I should get ready to move._

Batman knocked the knife out of Two Face’s hand.  Robin waited for the criminal to pull his guns, so he could attack, but Two Face didn’t move.  _This isn’t how it happened._

Batman took a step back, and Two Face turned to look down at Robin, “Well, aren’t you going to attack me, Robin?”

 _What’s going on?  This isn’t how it went last night._   Robin said, “Yes, I’ll get to you in a second.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Two Face said.

Robin smirked, “Yeah, I should.  I know how this will end.”

“Do you, Robin,” Two Face asked, “Or, should I call you Rome?  Do you still go by Rome?”

Robin gasped, but Two Face smiled evilly, “I know, how about I call you Damian?”

 _How does he know those names?  How does he know that they’re all mine?_  

Two Face sneered at the teen, “You’re mine, Damian, you just don’t know it yet.  I own you.  You’ll never escape me.  So, go ahead.  Attack me.  It will be the last thing you ever do.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed with anger and hatred at the supervillain of the split-personality.  _Yeah, right.  Sorry, Two Face, but this is my dream.  I decide how this goes._

Damian popped to his feet and rushed at the criminal.  Instead of burying his shoulder deep in Two Face’s stomach, as he planned, Damian passed completely through Two Face.  Startled by not hitting anything, Damian lost his footing and fell face first to the floor.

When Damian looked around, he wasn’t in the warehouse anymore.  He found himself in a small, dark, damp concrete room.  The floor was cold and damp under his hands and knees, and the smell was earthy, and rank, and terrifying.  Damian recognized it instantly.  This was his prison cell at Two Face’s school.

Damian looked out of the open door of the cell, to see Two Face staring at him.

“What’s going on,” Damian asked with a hint of fear in his voice.

“You know what’s going on,” Two Face said darkly.

“How did I get here?”

“You know that, too,” Two Face said patiently.

“No, I don’t,” Damian said, shaking his head, “Please, what’s going on?”

Two Face sighed and shook his head, “I thought this might happen.  The confusion is normal.”

“Why,” Damian asked.

Two Face leaned forward and said, “You’re dying, Damian.  Slowly and painfully.”

“Why am I _here_ , though,” Damian said, looking around the small room, “I left here.  I was rescued almost three years ago.”

“Were you,” Two Face asked pointedly, “Do you remember actually getting out of here?  Do you think you really left here?”

“I have three years of memories that say I did,” Damian said desperately.

Two Face smiled, “Do you?  Are any of those memories of you walking out of this room, or being carried out of this room?  What sounds more likely to you?  Did you get rescued in your last minutes of life, nursed back to health, and go on to live the happy life of a hero?  Or, are these just random electrical impulses in a dying brain; a brain that has been denied food, water, light, and fresh air for the last week?  No, no, Damian.  You never left here; and in just a little bit, you never will.”

“I don’t believe you,” Damian gasped, nearing hyperventilation, “I don’t believe you.”

“Then, how do you explain where you are,” Two Face snarled, “Look around you.  I know you recognize your cell.  I put you in here five days ago.  It will soon become your crypt.”

Two Face walked forward and grabbed the edge of the heavy door.  Damian’s eyes widened, “This can’t be happening.  You can’t do this to me.  This doesn’t make sense.”

The door began to close, and Damian pleaded, “Please, no.  No, don’t do this.  I want to live.  Please!”

“Seek your answers, Damian.  Seek your answers.”

The heavy door slammed shut, cutting out all light.  Damian breathed heavily, his breath hitching violently, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“NOOOOOOO!”

Damian sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide and leaking, and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Damian, are you alright?”

Damian nearly jumped when the soft hand wrapped around his elbow.  Damian turned his head sharply and released a breath.

“Robin.  Oh, thank god, it’s you.  You wouldn’t believe the dream I just had.”

Robin smiled as she leaned over and laid her head on Damian’s shoulder, “A bad one, huh?”

“Terrible,” Damian replied wearily.

His heart rate began to return to normal as Robin rubbed his left arm gently.  “Do you want to tell me about it,” Robin asked.

Damian shook his head, “Not really, but I should anyway…Hey, ow!”

“What is it,” Robin asked, concerned.

Robin had been stroking his left arm, and every time she touched his wrist, pain shot through his arm.

“My arm,” Damian said, looking down, “It shouldn’t feel like that.”

“What does it feel like,” Robin asked.

Damian reached over and touched his own arm with a wince, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was broken.”

Robin sat up, shock evident on her face, “Broken?  How?  You were moaning in your sleep, but you weren’t moving.  What could you possibly have done to break your arm?”

“Did you say break your arm?”

The teens turned to see Alfred walking into the bedroom.  Damian sighed, “I don’t know what’s going on, Alfred.  I don’t remember doing anything that could have hurt my arm, but I swear it feels like it’s broken.”

Alfred leaned over the bed and looked at the appendage the teen was holding out.  “Are you sure your brother didn’t kick you?”

_Kick me?  Wait, that’s how I broke my arm, back then.  How Dick broke my arm.  Nightwing kicked me while I was trying to maintain my cover.  Why would Alfred ask me about that?_

“That’s not funny, Alfred.”

The butler shrugged, “Perhaps not.  Either way, I suppose we should examine you.  If you will please go over there.”

Damian looked in the direction Alfred was pointing, and his blood ran cold.  The door to his bathroom stood open, but instead of porcelain and tile, Damian saw damp concrete and darkness.

“What is that,” Damian asked fearfully.

“You tell us, Master Damian,” Alfred said, “It is yours, after all.”

Damian shook his head violently, “No!  How did that get there?  Why is this happening?”

Alfred looked dispassionately at the open door, then back at the teen, “Master Damian, you are wasting time.  If you will not let me examine you, then I cannot help you.”

Damian was visibly shaking in fear, “Going there won’t help me.  I don’t want to go there.  Why can’t you examine me here?”

“Because your answers are there,” Alfred said simply.

 _This isn’t real,_ Damian thought, _this can’t be real.  Am I still dreaming?  I thought I was awake.  Why can’t I wake up?  Why can’t I get away from that place?  Was Two Face right?  Did I really never leave his prison?  Am I dead?_

Damian’s body moved of its own volition.  No matter how much Damian didn’t want to move, he couldn’t stop himself from leaving his bed and walking to the cell.

He stopped just outside of the door, next to Alfred.  Turning his head to look at the butler, Damian pleaded with his eyes, “Please, Alfred.  Don’t make me go in there.  I want to live.”

Alfred sighed, “That choice is beyond me, Master Damian.  You must go.”

Damian closed his eyes for a second.  When he opened them again, he was inside the cold cell, looking back at his bedroom.

“Why,” Damian asked in a small voice.

Robin was standing next to Alfred and reaching for the door, “You tell us, Lover.”

Alfred nodded as the butler and the girl pushed the door closed, “Seek your answers, Damian.  Seek your answers.”

A tear slid down Damian’s cheek as he shivered in the cold, damp air.  Despair filled the teen, who sat down, wrapped his arms around his legs, buried his face in his knees, and sobbed himself to sleep.

A knock on a bedroom door was met with a call of, “Come in.”

Robin opened the door and walked into Bruce’s bedroom.  The man smiled at the girl, “Hi, Robin.  What’s up?”

The teen stopped at the end of the bed, with a concerned look on his face, “It’s Damian, Mr. Wayne.  I just went to check on him.  He’s tossing and turning like crazy.  I can’t get him to wake up.”

Bruce looked concerned, “Nightmare, huh?  Damn, he must be sicker than we thought.  Let’s go take a look.”

Bruce got out of his bed and turned towards the door, but stopped at the sight before him.  With a smile, he patted Robin on the shoulder and said, “Well, that’s one less thing to look into.”

Robin turned and gasped as she saw Damian leaning heavily against Bruce’s bedroom door.  “Damian, thank god.  I couldn’t get you to wake up.  You were scaring me.”

Damian’s entire body felt heavy as he approached his father and girlfriend, “Sorry about that.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  I just feel so terrible.”

“These nightmares are getting out of control,” Robin said.

“They aren’t any better on me, you know,” Damian said while trying to smile.

“What do you think caused this, Damian,” Bruce asked.

Damian shook his head, again wishing he hadn’t, “I don’t know, Father.”

Bruce nodded slowly, “Well, let’s get Alfred to check you out.  Maybe he’s got something to help.”

“Alfred just…”  Damian trailed off, like he was trying to put together a puzzle in his addled mind.  _No, that was a nightmare.  I didn’t just see Alfred.  That won’t make any sense to Father or Robin, though._

“Alfred just what,” Bruce asked.

“Never mind,” Damian said softly, “It’s nothing.”

“Alfred just what,” Bruce demanded, “That man does a lot for you.  You better not be badmouthing him.”

 _Why is he getting upset?  I didn’t say anything bad.  I would never say anything bad about Alfred._   “I’m just confused, Father.  I think I’m pretty sick right now.”

“I think you better go to your room, Damian,” Bruce said harshly.

 _Why is he mad at me?  I must have said or done something that I don’t realize I did yet.  I’ll apologize later, when I’m feeling better, and know what I did._   “Yes, Father,” Damian said softly.

With a sad sigh, Damian turned and looked at the door.  Even though the sight filled him with fear, it was expected at this point.  Damian could feel the cold air wafting out to the dark concrete cell that now stood where the hallway should have been.  He shivered and turned back to his father.

Bruce’s eyes were blazing.  He jabbed a finger at his son and almost yelled, “You get back to your room.  Do you understand me, little boy?”

Damian’s jaw shook, “Father, I don’t want…”

“I don’t give a shit what you want,” Bruce interrupted, “That is where you belong, and that is where you’re going.”

“Why do I have to go back there, Father,” Damian asked in a small voice.

“Don’t you dare backtalk me,” Bruce said coldly.  “You follow orders when I give them.”

Robin walked up and gently took Damian’s hand, “Maybe you had better listen to him.  You don’t want to make him mad.”

Damian was nearing tears, “No, I don’t want to make Father mad, but why is he sending me there?  Didn’t he fight to get me out of there?  Why send me back?”

“I’m waiting, Damian,” Bruce growled from just behind the teen.

Damian took a shuddering breath and found his body moving against his will, into the dark chamber.  He turned back to see his father glaring at him as he closed the door.  “I don’t understand, Father.”

“Seek your answers, Damian.  Seek your answers.”

_I don’t want to be in here.  I don’t want to be in here.  I don’t want to be in here._

Crying, Damian pounded his fists against the metal and concrete door.  “Please, I don’t want to be in here.  Why is this happening?”

“Damian?”

Damian opened his eyes to yet another confusing sight.  Damian was standing in the upstairs residence wing hallway of Stately Wayne Manor, pounding on his bedroom door.  _What is going on?  I don’t even know what is real anymore._

Damian turned in the direction of the voice that called his name and found Tim standing behind him.  His youngest older brother looked at him compassionately and asked, “Are you alright, Damian?”

Despair was taking over, and Damian wondered why he was trying so hard not to cry.  “No, Tim.  I’m not alright.”

The man smiled gently, “I’m sorry, Damian.  How can I help you?”

Damian took a second look at the man, and only then did he notice the changes.  “Tim, did you shave your head?”

Tim’s smile widened as he ran a hand over his smooth head, “What do you think?  Nice, right?”

“You didn’t have that moustache when I saw you yesterday, did you?”  Tim didn’t respond, so Damian asked, “Are you trying to look like King on purpose?”

Tim shrugged, “Just thought I’d go for a nostalgic look.  This is easier to care for than my normal hair.”

“Yeah, but why that particular look?”

Tim eyed the teen, “How else am I supposed to look?  This is your nightmare.  The real question is, why are you imagining me looking like this?  You haven’t decided if this is how I looked the last time you saw me yet.”

Damian shook his head, “Don’t do this to me, Tim.  I can’t take anymore.”

A new voice entered Damian’s ear from the right as Dick approached.  He looked at Tim and asked, “He still can’t make up his mind, huh?”

Tim sighed sadly, “No.  I really thought he was stronger than this.”

“You owe me twenty bucks, Replacement.  I told you he couldn’t get through this without us.”

Damian looked up and saw Jason approaching with a predatory grin on his face.  His brothers stood glaring down at him, talking amongst themselves.

“Our next Batman,” Jason snorted, “Yeah, right.”

“What did you expect,” Tim replied, “He couldn’t figure this one out.  Now, it’s too late.”

“What couldn’t I figure out,” Damian asked.

“Should we give him a hint,” Dick asked.

Jason shook his head, “It won’t do him any good at this point.  He’s too far gone.”

Dick sighed, “That’s too bad.  I liked Damian, when he was here.”

“Yeah, so did I,” Tim said, “Most of the time.  Well, some of the time.”

“Then why did you make this voodoo doll of him,” Jason said with a laugh, holding up a small Robin doll.

Damian eyed the doll, and was confused by the pins sticking out of the right knee.  Unable to process that visual, Damian asked, “What do you mean, I’m too far gone?”

“That doesn’t require explanation,” Jason said, “You don’t have too long left, now.”

Tim shook his head, “You could have made this so much easier for yourself.  You just had to do things the hard way, didn’t you?”

Dick sighed again, “Come on, you guys.  You’re making him cry.  Let’s just give him one little hint, before he…well, before he has to go.”

Damian nodded his head, “Yes.  Please, give me just one hint.  I’m so confused.  I don’t know what’s happening anymore.”

Jason looked at Tim, then Dick, before saying, “Okay.  It won’t do you any good at this point, but Golden Boy will give me hell if we allowed you to die without telling you why.”

“Thank you,” Damian said with relief in his tone.

“Turn around.”

Damian thought that was strange advice, but he did as his older brother said.  Damian came face to face with his bedroom door and said, “Okay?”

“Open it,” Jason said, “All your answers are inside.”

With a shaking hand, Damian reached out and turned the knob.  The aged wooden portal was far heavier than he could remember it being, but Damian managed to pull it open.

Seeing the cold, damp, concrete cell truly surprised Damian this time, even thought it shouldn’t have.  Damian let go of the door handle and fell back to the floor in fright.

The teen looked up at the three men standing over him, looking impossibly tall as they glared down at him, “What is this?”

“The answer you were looking for,” Dick said.

“He still doesn’t get it,” Tim said, shaking his head.

“Let’s help him with that,” Jason said.

Damian didn’t like the evil looks being thrown his way by his brothers.  As one, they began kicking and stomping on the teen.  None of his cries or shouts seemed to be heard by the abusers, or, if they were, then they were ignored.

Damian was bruised, bleeding, and crying on the ground by the time the assault stopped.  Damian was just looking up, wondering what was next, when his three elders picked him up and threw him into the cell.  Damian bounced off of the back wall and crashed to the hard ground painfully.

“Please, don’t,” Damian whispered as his brothers closed the door to his cell, “Why are you doing this?”

“Seek your answers, Damian.  Seek your answers.”

_Meanwhile…_

Bruce had just opened his bedroom door to go to bed when he heard a door open behind him.  Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Robin walk into the hall.

“Hi, Robin,” Bruce said, “How’s Damian doing?  Is he asleep?”

Robin walked up to Bruce with an extremely concerned look on her face, “Yeah, he’s asleep, but…”

Bruce turned to look at the girl, “But, what?”

“He looks _really_ bad, Mr. Wayne,” Robin said quietly.

“How so,” Bruce asked.

Robin sighed, “Well, he’s all sweaty, and he’s moaning, like he’s having another nightmare.”

“Another one, huh?”

“Yeah,” Robin nodded, “I, um, I tried to wake him up.  He wouldn’t wake up.  He was hot when I touched him.  Really hot.”

Bruce was starting to think this might be more than just a cold.  “Hot, you say?  Let’s go take a look.”

Bruce followed Robin across the hall to Damian’s room.  Even before they entered the space, Bruce could hear his son moaning.

Bruce walked up to the bed and gripped Damian’s shoulder.  Shaking his son, he said, “Hey, Damian?  Come on, enough of this already.  Wake up, pal.”

The boy remained unconscious as Bruce noticed just how wet his hand was when it came off of Damian’s skin.  Bruce felt Damian’s forehead to check his temperature, and his eyes widened in shock.

“What is it,” Robin asked, scared at the man’s reaction.

“He’s burning up.  We should have checked on him earlier.”

“He said he was okay before coming up to bed,” Robin said.

Alfred walked into the teen’s bedroom, and was surprised to find Bruce inspecting the boy.  “Master Bruce, has there been any change in his condition?”

Bruce stood and looked at the butler, “For the worse, Alfred.  Get a thermometer.  He’s burning up here.”

“At once, sir.”

Alfred returned from Damian’s bathroom with a digital thermometer.  Sticking it under Damian’s tongue, Alfred commented, “He is quite flushed, isn’t he?”

“Hey, what’s going on,” Dick asked as he walked into his brother’s room.

No one answered Dick.  Instead, Bruce, Alfred, and Robin stared at the thermometer, waiting for a result.

The room jumped when the thermometer gave a soft beep.  Bruce snatched the device from his son’s mouth and looked at the display.  His jaw dropped at the number he read.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred asked expectantly.

Bruce’s voice was deadly serious, “Get the car, Alfred.  We might have waited too long to check on him.  One-oh-five point six.”

Alfred and Dick gasped at the number.  Alfred swallowed and said, “Right away, sir.”

Bruce turned to Dick and said, “Dick, call Dr. Thompkins.  Tell her we’re taking Damian to Gotham General Hospital.  See if she can call ahead and get him checked in.”

Dick fled from the room to get his phone.  Robin looked scared, and asked, “What does that mean?”

Bruce took a deep breath, “It’s high, Robin.  Very high.  Get dressed, and get a pair of Damian’s sweats from his closet.  Please.”

Robin walked up to the bed and pulled back the blankets, “I saw this earlier, when I came to check on him.  Do you think it could have something to do with this?”

Robin was pointing to Damian’s right knee.  Bruce was horrified to see that the knee had swelled to twice the size of his other knee, and was various shades of purple and blue.

Bruce nodded, “Yeah, that might have something to do with it.  If not, it’s something else that needs to be checked out.  I’m assuming you don’t want to go to the hospital in your pajamas, so hurry up and change.  We’re leaving as soon as Alfred says the car is ready.”

Robin hurried to Damian’s closet, where she had left her suitcase.  Robin grabbed a pair of Damian’s sweats and threw them out to Bruce before pulling her own day clothes back on.  Bruce picked up Damian’s shirt from the floor and gently slid a hand under his son’s back.

Lifting the boy, he noticed that Damian’s arms and head flopped, like the boy had no muscle control.  Bruce pulled the shirt over Damian’s head, and the boy moaned, “No, please stop.  Why are you doing this to me?”

Bruce took a closer look at his son as Robin sniffled from close by.  “Is he in pain?”

Bruce shook his head, “It must be part of his nightmare.  He’s completely delirious.”

Bruce pulled the sweats up Damian’s legs, then took the sweatshirt that Robin handed him.  If the situation was less critical, he might have laughed at the large black hooded Batman sweatshirt.  Instead, he just pulled the sweatshirt over his son’s head and stood up.

“Robin, I’m going to get changed,” Bruce said, “I’ll be back in a minute.  I know I don’t really have to ask this, but please stay with him.”

Robin just nodded as she pulled on her own sweatshirt.

Dick walked back into the room and smiled at the sight.  Damian was wearing Dick’s Batman sweatshirt, while Robin was wearing her zippered Robin sweatshirt.  Approaching the bed, Dick asked, “Did he get you that?”

Robin looked up, “No, my Grandmother got it for me for my birthday.  It’s my favorite sweatshirt, but a little too thin for Alaska.  Dick, why did you and Mr. Wayne react the way you did to Damian’s temperature?”

Dick sighed, “Bruce said his reading was one-oh-five point six.  People can’t really…survive…if their temperature gets much past one hundred six.”

Robin gasped at the news and Dick patted her back, “Damian is strong.  He’ll get through this.”

Alfred walked back into the room, “Where is Master Bruce?”

“Here, Alfred,” Bruce said, walking back into Damian’s room, “Are we ready to go?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dick, what did Leslie say?”

Dick stood up, “She’s calling the hospital.  She said to go through the ER, and she’s going to meet us there.”

Bruce placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “You’re going to hate me for this, but you’re staying here, Dick.”

Dick’s jaw dropped, “You’re right, I’m going to hate you.  Why am I staying here?”

Bruce reached down and picked Damian up, “I want you to wait for your brothers to get home from patrol, and bring them when you come to the hospital.  We’ll probably be happy to have a second car there, just in case.”

Dick rested a hand on Damian’s back, then leaned closer and whispered, “I’ll be there soon, Little Brother.”

Dick nodded at Bruce.  Bruce swept from the room, with Alfred and Robin following the man down the stairs and out the front door.

The twenty-minute drive to the hospital was accomplished in complete silence.  It was a toss-up as to who was hugging Damian more tightly, as Bruce, Damian, and Robin all sat in the back seat of the car.  Alfred was able to pull into a spot outside of the hospital, and Bruce barely waited for the car to stop before he scooped up his son and hurried for the entrance.

Bruce walked into the emergency room at Gotham General Hospital to find a rare sight in Gotham City.  The emergency room was nearly empty.  Bruce rushed up to the intake desk and spoke to the receptionist.

“Good evening, sir.  How can we help you?”

Bruce had to take a deep breath to be able to calm himself enough to speak coherently.  “It’s my son, Damian.  He has a high fever, and he’s unresponsive.  Our family doctor was supposed to call ahead and inform someone we were bringing him in.”

The woman looked at her intake sheet and said, “Last name, please?”

“Wayne,” Bruce said, “Damian Wayne.”

The woman found the entry, “Yes, here it is.  You’re in luck; it’s a slow night tonight.  Let’s get him back to triage.  This way, please.”

Bruce went to follow the nurse, then stopped and turned to the girl in his shadow, “Robin, maybe you should wait here with Alfred.  Once they get him in, we can all go back.”

“Okay, Mr. Wayne,” Robin said as she walked over to take a seat next to Alfred.

Bruce set Damian on the exam table, then sat behind him, so the insensate teen could lean against him.  The nurse stuck a thermometer in Damian’s mouth and asked Bruce, “What are his symptoms?”

Bruce stared at the thermometer and said, “High fever and general unresponsiveness.  He also has a knee injury that needs to be looked at.  We took his temperature just before bringing him here.  It was one hundred five point six.”

The nurse looked at the new reading, then stuck her head out of the triage room door.  “Find Dr. Jones.  Now.” she said to a passing nurse.

“What is it,” Bruce asked, with concern in his voice.

“Mr. Wayne, we’re going to have to admit your son,” the nurse said, “His temperature is reading at one-oh-six point two.”

Bruce shook his head, “Oh, god, it got worse.”

A man walked into the room wearing blue scrubs and a white lab coat.  “Get Bay three ready.  Mr. Wayne, I’m Dr. Jones.  Looks like you got one sick boy here.  Did this come on him suddenly, or slowly?”

“He’s been getting worse all day,” Bruce said.  “I just thought he was getting a cold.”

The doctor called out, “Gurney, please.”

“I’ll carry him, if it will get him there faster,” Bruce said.

Dr. Jones nodded, “Follow me, then.”

Bruce picked up his son, followed the doctor to a treatment bay, and set Damian on the bed.  A nurse stepped in to get Damian ready, but Bruce stopped her.

“Damian has trust issues.  If he wakes up, it might be for the best if he sees me stripping him down and putting the gown on him, instead of a stranger.”

The nursed didn’t want to point out that Damian wasn’t going to wake up until his fever broke, but she had seen more than enough scared parents to know that Bruce just wanted to feel like he was doing something to help his son.

Dr. Jones walked in as Bruce pulled the sweatshirt off and tossed it on a chair.  “Mr. Wayne, is…”

“Damian,” Bruce provided the name for the doctor.

“Thank you.  Is Damian allergic to any medications?”

Bruce shook his head, “No.  No allergies that we know of.”

“Prepare two units of fluids and two units of antibiotics,” Dr. Jones called to a nurse, “Let’s get his temperature down to a manageable level, then see what we’re working with.”

Bruce peeled Damian’s again-sweat-soaked shirt off, and couldn’t help but notice the way the doctor and nurse reacted to Damian’s scars.  Bruce sighed roughly, “Damian lived with his mother until he was ten.  She abused him.  He’s very defensive about his scars.  They are all documented in his medical record.  We go through this every time he sees a new doctor.”

“That would explain the trust issues you mentioned,” the nurse said gently.

“Yes, it would,” Bruce said as he pulled the gown on and tied it around his son.

Bruce pulled the sweat pants off, and Dr. Jones stopped and stared at Damian’s knee, “What’s this all about?”

Bruce looked up, “I told the triage nurse that he has a knee injury that needs to be looked at.”

“What happened?”

Bruce kept his reaction in check as the nurse started the IV line, but inside he was panicking.  _We didn’t come up with a story about how he hurt his knee.  I’ll just have to find a way to let him know what I’m going to make up._

“Yesterday, Damian was out in the woods with Titus.  He said he tripped over a tree root.  He said he heard a pop, his knee bent backwards, and he fell over.  It didn’t look like this when we looked at it last night.”

The doctor nodded, “Did this Titus tell you what happened?”

“No,” Bruce said.

“Why not?”

Bruce smiled, “Titus is Damian’s dog.  We’re not going to get much out of him.”

Dr. Jones smiled, “Well, we’ll get him an MRI to see what’s going on.”

“No, you can’t do that,” Bruce said quickly.

“Why,” Dr. Jones asked.

Bruce tried to hide the slightly nervous look on his face, “Four years ago, Damian was in a serious accident.  His right knee is a total knee replacement.  He also has steel supports in his spine.  You can’t do an MRI on him; the magnet would rip the metal straight out of his body.”

Dr. Jones nodded, “Okay, we’ll do an x-ray, then.  Not until his fever breaks, though.  We’ll let him rest for now while the antibiotics do their work.”

“Hello,” a new voice called out as Leslie stuck her head around the privacy curtain.

Bruce looked up and sighed in relief.  Dr. Jones approached and said, “I’m sorry, but this patient shouldn’t have visitors right now.”

Leslie smiled as she stepped around the curtain, “I’m Dr. Leslie Thompkins, Damian’s primary doctor.  I’m the one who told Bruce to bring Damian here after he called my answering service.”

Dr. Jones shook Dr. Thompkins’ hand, “It’s a good thing you did.  We’ve got one sick boy here.”

Leslie looked Damian over, then asked, “Bruce, what’s up with his knee?”

Bruce glanced at Dr. Jones, then said, “I told you over the phone.  He tripped and hyperextended it while he was out walking Titus.”

“You didn’t tell me it looked like that.”  Leslie turned to Dr. Jones and handed over a thick file folder, “That is Damian’s complete medical record.  I thought it could be helpful.”

Dr. Jones took the file, “I’ll go review this.  We’ve got some time while the antibiotics do their work.  A nurse will be checking on him every ten minutes.”

Dr. Jones left and Leslie looked Damian over again.  She took a seat next to Bruce and spoke softly, “Okay, I let you get away with that story with Dr. Jones.  Now, I get the truth.  What really happened?”

Bruce leaned closer to Leslie and said, “We took Two Face down last night.  Damian said Two Face kicked him in the knee during the fight.  He heard it pop and it bent backwards.  He was limping last night.  I didn’t really see him walk much today, but he wasn’t limping.”

“Why didn’t you call me about that,” Leslie said.

“We did,” Bruce said, “Alfred called and set up the first available appointment.  He’s supposed to bring Damian in on Tuesday morning.”

Leslie sighed, “Okay, how about the fever?”

Bruce shook his head, “I don’t know.  He started showing signs of getting sick this morning.  His fever spiked sometime between dinner and eleven o’clock, when Robin came to get me.”

Leslie smiled, “I saw Alfred in the lobby.  Is the blonde girl in the family sweater Robin?”

Bruce nodded, “That’s her.  The best thing to ever happen to Damian, according to him.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Leslie said, “but she’s beautiful.  You are going to have some adorable grandchildren, Bruce.”

A nurse came in, changed Damian’s IV, and took his temperature.  105.7 was better than 106.2, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Leslie looked back at the patient, “What happened to his face?”

Bruce took a breath, “Below his eye is from a stick, when he fell in the woods.”

Leslie rolled her eyes and sent Bruce a fair imitation of a Bat-glare.  Bruce sighed and whispered, “Lucky slash from Two Face’s knife.”

“And his cheek?”

Bruce smirked, “Damian tried shaving without supervision.”

Leslie looked at Bruce seriously, judging his expression, “Oh, my god, you aren’t making that up.”

Bruce just shook his head.

“Dr. Thompkins, Mr. Wayne, Dr. Jones wants to see you.”

Bruce and Leslie followed the nurse to the nurse’s station, where Dr. Jones sat, reading Damian’s medical chart.  The man looked up with a warm smile and said, “I think I’ve figured out what’s really going on here.  That knee was concerning me.  Fortunately, Dr. Thompkins’ notes list the model and serial number of the joint.  In short terms, it’s got to come out.  The sooner, the better.”

Bruce stared at the man for a second, then said, “Use longer terms.”

Dr. Jones nodded, “Okay.  That model of knee replacement joint was recalled almost two years ago.  Your boy isn’t the first one to have these issues.  You see, his joint uses a fluidic lubrication system.  It works great, until there is even the slightest trauma to the joint.”

“Like bending the wrong way,” Bruce said.

“That would do it,” Dr. Jones said, “The fluid reservoir can leak after that kind of trauma, causing all of the symptoms we’re seeing in Damian.”

“So, he’s having a reaction to the lubricant,” Bruce asked.

“That’s my guess,” Dr. Jones said.

“And, you said his knee joint was recalled for this fault?”

“Almost two years ago,” Dr. Jones replied.

“Why weren’t we notified,” Bruce asked, shaking his head, “We would have had this taken care of long before now, if we knew.”

Dr. Jones looked down, “Notifications were sent to the surgeon’s offices.  They were supposed to get in touch with patients.”

Bruce sighed roughly, “Damian had his surgery at Gotham Mercy Hospital.  Since there _is_ no more Gotham Mercy Hospital, the notification went nowhere.”

Dr. Jones looked up sheepishly, “That seems to be the case.  Don’t worry, Mr. Wayne.  Once Damian’s fever breaks, we’ll get him prepped for surgery.”

“Is…is the fever going to come down,” Bruce asked nervously.

“The nurse said it’s already come down a degree.  I think he’s over the hump.”

_Meanwhile…_

_This doesn’t feel right.  It’s dark, but not as dark as it was.  Wait, don’t they say to go towards the light when you’re dying?  What am I supposed to do if I want to live?  The light is getting closer.  Do I even have a choice in this?  Someone help me.  Please._

“Someone help me.  Please.”

The nurse’s head turned in the direction of the small murmur and found her young patient’s eyes blinking as they adjusted to the dim light.

“We’re here for you, young man.  Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

“Who are you,” Damian asked blearily.

The woman smiled, “My name is Jackie.  Do you know where you are?”

Damian tried to look around.  His head felt like it was made of lead, and his neck muscled were sluggish to respond to his commands.  His eyes were having a hard time focusing.  Damian slurred out, “Where am I?”

Jackie smiled again, “Don’t worry about that now.  You’re one sick boy.  We’re helping you, though.  Just relax.”

That answer did not sit well with Damian’s addled mind.  He spoke a bit more forcefully, “Tell me what’s going on.  Where am I?”

Damian tried to struggle off of the hospital bed, but his body was too weak to move.  Unfortunately, his mind interpreted that as being tied down, with his inability to lift his arms or legs.  “Let me go!”

Jackie put a hand gently on Damian’s shoulder, not realizing that Damian’s fevered mind was still caught halfway between a dream and reality.  “You’re alright, honey.  Calm down.”

“Don’t touch me,” Damian snarled fiercely enough for the nurse to take a step back.  “Stay away from me.”

Jackie nodded, “Okay.  Let me get the Doctor.  He’ll explain everything.”

Jackie quickly stuck her head outside of the curtained space and called, “Dr. Jones, he’s awake.”

Bruce’s head swiveled to look at the nurse as Dr. Jones hurried to the enclosure.  Bruce let out a relieved sigh and mumbled, “He’s awake.”

Leslie gripped Bruce’s shoulder and said, “You know your son.  Let’s go.  He’s probably confused and scared right now.  You might be the only one who can keep him calm.”

“You’re probably right,” Bruce said darkly.

Leslie was right.

Bruce and Leslie were just in time to see Damian thrashing on the bed and trying to roll away from Dr. Jones.  Bruce put a little Batman in his voice and said firmly, “Stop this.”

The tone broke through to Damian, who stopped and looked up.

“Father,” Damian said in a tone that was half relieved, and half confused.

Bruce took two steps closer to the bed and said, “Enough, Damian.  You will let Dr. Jones and…” Bruce didn’t actually know the name of the nurse, “…his nurse examine you.  Leslie and I are right here.  Nothing will happen to you.”

The entire room could tell that Damian didn’t want to go along with Bruce’s command.  Damian’s eyes never left Bruce’s as Dr. Jones and Jackie took Damian’s temperature, changed his IV, and made chart notes.

When they were done, Dr. Jones said, “We’ll go check on the preparations.  I want his fever to come down a little more before we move on to the procedure.”

Damian’s eyes widened at the conversation.  Bruce said, “Thank you.  I’d like to be alone with my son, please.”

Dr. Jones and Jackie left as Bruce took a seat next to the bed.  Not looking at the woman, Bruce said, “Leslie, could you go and give Alfred an update, please?”

Leslie patted Bruce’s shoulder and said, “Of course, hon.  I’ll be back later.”

Bruce’s eyes never left his son.  Once he was sure Leslie was gone, Bruce said softly, “Let it out, son.  I can see how conflicted you are right now.”

It took Damian a second to respond before he hissed out, “Is this real?”

“What are you seeing, Damian?”

Damian glanced around, “A hospital?  I think?”

Bruce nodded, “That’s right, you’re in the hospital.  How do you feel?”

Damian closed his eyes, then opened them quickly, as if closing his eyes was the worst thing he could do.  “Terrible.  Are you sure this is real?”

Bruce reached out and grabbed Damian’s hand.  The boy flinched hard at the contact, but Bruce held on and picked up the hand, so they both could see it.  “This is real.  You must have had some terrible nightmares, if you’re doubting your eyes right now.”

_Nightmares?  Yeah, they must have been nightmares.  What was real, though?_

“Yeah,” Damian sighed, “They were bad.”

Bruce eyed Damian for a second.  “You still aren’t sure this isn’t just another nightmare.  How can I convince you that you’re finally awake?”

Damian really liked the feeling of Bruce holding his hand, but it wasn’t quite enough.  _A couple of times that had to be nightmares, I remember being touched.  It felt real, like this does.  What will convince me?_

The answer came to Damian, “There’s only one thing that will truly convince me, but we can’t do it now.”

Bruce cocked his head, “What is it, son?”

Damian shook his head, “I can’t tell you that right now.”

“Why not,” Bruce asked, confused.

“Because, if this is a nightmare, the thing I need to see will pop up, and I’ll start this hell all over again.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Damian, did you know you were having nightmares?”

Damian nodded, “At first.  It all seems…seemed, so real.  Just like this seems real.”

Bruce smiled and squeezed Damian’s hand, “This is real.  Wait, was I part of your nightmare?  Is that why you don’t trust me right now?”

“You were in one of them,” Damian said, then thought out loud, “No, wait.  Two of them.”

Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry about that.  What’s the last thing that you remember that wasn’t a dream?”

Damian sighed, “It’s hard to remember.”

“Why don’t you walk me through your day today?”

Damian looked at Bruce strangely, “Are you telling me this is still Saturday?”

Bruce looked at his watch, then said, “Well, it’s one o’clock, Sunday morning, but that’s close enough.”

“Feels like it’s been days,” Damian said, “Let’s see, I woke up.  I wasn’t feeling too good.  Robin and I took a shower.  We didn’t even fool around in there; I guess that shows how bad I felt.  We went to breakfast, which I didn’t eat.  Then, Robin and I watched movies.  Let’s see, we watched Happy Gilmore.  When that was over, we put on Tangled, but I remember falling asleep during that one.  I remember Robin saying her favorite part was coming up, and the next thing I know, the credits were rolling.  Robin said it was okay that I fell asleep, because I was leaning on her shoulder the whole time.  She said she wanted to watch another movie.  I remember standing up, and that’s it.  The next thing I clearly remember is the first nightmare.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “Wow, that’s it?”

“Yeah,” Damian said, “What did I do?”

Bruce took a breath, “Well, according to Robin, you two watched a third movie.  She said you slept through the whole thing.  Then, you two came to dinner.  You announced that you didn’t feel good, and you went to bed.”

“How far did I make it,” Damian asked.

“All the way,” Bruce said, “You got into your room, closed the door, undressed, and got under the blankets.  Robin ate her dinner, then she and I talked for a while.  That’s actually the first time I’ve spoken to just her for a conversation.  I can see why you fell in love with her.”

Damian gave a soft smile, “She’s great, isn’t she?”

“She’s the one who alerted me that you weren’t doing well,” Bruce said.  “If we’d waited any longer to bring you in, you could have died.”

The duo fell silent, and Bruce noticed that Damian’s grip on his hand had strengthened.  Damian’s lower lip started quivering, and he spoke softly, “Dad?  I want this to be real.  How do I convince myself that this isn’t another nightmare?  That I’m finally awake?”

Bruce reached to the side of the bed and pressed the button that inclined the head, sitting Damian up.  Once he was up, Bruce sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Damian into a gentle hug.  “You just have to trust me, Kiddo.  I’m real.  You’re real.  This is all real.  You’re awake.”

“I’m scared, Dad,” Damian whispered.

“You’re confused, son,” Bruce replied, “You still have a fever.  One hundred two isn’t good by any measure, but it’s a hell of a lot better than one hundred six.”

Damian sat back, “I hit one-oh-six?”

“See why you’re in the hospital, now?”

“Which hospital,” Damian asked.

“Gotham General.”

Damian looked around, “Where is everyone else?  Or, is it just you and I here?”

Bruce smiled, “Alfred and Robin are in the lobby.  Dr. Jones didn’t want too many people back here at a time.  Dick is at home.  I told him to wait for Tim and Jason to get home, then bring them over.”

Damian eyed Bruce strangely, “Am I going to be here long enough for them to come?”

Bruce took a breath, “Yes, you will.  We’ve found out how you got so sick.  If we’re going to fix it, you’re going to be here for a while.  You see, when you were out walking Titus in the woods, and you tripped over that tree root, you damaged your prosthetic knee.”

Damian was staring suspiciously at his father.  _That isn’t what happened.  He knows that isn’t what happened.  Is this just another nightmare, a longer one, this time?_

Bruce caught Damian’s look, then looked pointedly at the curtain.  He winked at his son, and Damian’s eyes widened.  _That must be the story he came up with, to tell the doctors.  I wonder if he told Dr. Thompkins the truth._

Bruce pulled Damian’s blanket down, then lifted the hem of Damian’s gown to show the teen his swollen, purple knee.  Damian was shocked at the sight as Bruce continued quietly, “There was a small reservoir of lubricant in your knee, and when it bent the wrong way, the reservoir broke.  You had a reaction to the lubricant, which caused your fever, and nightmares.”

_Wow.  That explains everything.  None of my other nightmares tried to explain what happened.  That means this must be real._

Damian looked up, “What does that mean?”

“It’s time for a new knee, Kiddo,” Bruce said.

Damian gasped, “Surgery?”

Bruce nodded, “I’m afraid so.  As soon as your fever drops a bit more, they’re going to do your surgery.”

A nurse, a different one than Jackie, came in to take Damian’s temperature and check his vitals.  Once she left, Bruce asked, “Will you be okay by yourself for a couple minutes while I go explain what happened to the doctor?  You scared them with your reaction to waking up here.”

“I really don’t want to be alone, Dad,” Damian said softly.

“Then, how about I solve that?”

Bruce and Damian turned towards the voice, and saw Dr. Thompkins lead Robin into the space.  The girl looked clearly nervous, and didn’t know what to expect, even with Leslie’s update.  Robin sighed at seeing Damian awake and sitting up, and rushed at the bed.

Bruce intercepted Robin with a hand on her shoulder.  “Stay calm.  The doctor will ask you to leave if you get him too excited.”

“Okay, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce and Leslie left Robin and Damian alone.  Robin immediately climbed up on the narrow bed, into the space Damian cleared for her by scooting as far to the side of the bed as he could.  Robin leaned in and melted against Damian’s side.

Damian smiled and said, “I can’t believe you brought that sweatshirt.”

Robin smirked, “If I can’t wear a Robin sweatshirt in Gotham City, where can I wear it?”

Damian kissed Robin’s cheek, and the girl said, “You came dressed, too.”

“What do you mean?”

Robin nodded to the chair at the side of the bed.  Damian looked down and saw Dick’s Batman sweatshirt.  Damian snorted a laugh, “I guess it’s appropriate, then.”

Damian sighed and looked down at his lap, “Robin, I’m so sorry.  I’m probably going to be spending all of our time together in the hospital.”

“You better not be,” Robin said.

“Didn’t Dr. Thompkins tell you,” Damian asked, “As soon as my fever drops, they’re going to replace my fake knee.”

“She told us,” Robin said, “As soon as she did, I called my Dad.  He wasn’t too happy that I called so late.”

Damian did some quick math in his head, which took longer than it should have, “Isn’t it only, like, nine or ten there, right now?”

Robin nodded, “Yes, it is, but I meant late for here.  He said I should be sleeping, until I told him where we are and why we’re here.  Dad said to get well soon, and that I can stay an extra week.”

Damian gasped happily, “He did?  I knew I liked your Father.”

“He’ll be happy to hear that,” Robin said, “So, if you’re still in the hospital when I go home, almost thirteen days from now, then there will be serious problems.”

Damian pulled Robin into a kiss, then said, “I promise, no problems.  No complications.”

Leslie walked around the curtain with a knowing smile on her face.  “Robin, didn’t Bruce tell you to keep Damian calm?”

Robin blushed, “We haven’t been loud, have we?”

Leslie’s smile grew, “He’s wearing a heart monitor.  The entire nurse’s station is listening to how fast you make his heart beat.”

Robin grew an embarrassed smile, and Damian said, “She’s the best girl in the world, Dr. Thompkins.  I can’t help but get excited around her.”

“They’re going to start prepping you for surgery soon, Damian,” Dr. Thompkins said, “Try to rest before that.”

Half an hour after Leslie left the teens, Bruce stuck his head around the curtain and smiled at the sight.  Robin lay curled up at Damian’s side, asleep.  Damian waved the man in, and Bruce said softly, “With the way your heart rate slowed down on the monitor, I figured you’d fallen asleep.”

Damian shook his head, “No, she did.  She’s exhausted.”

“I know,” Bruce said with a yawn, “So am I.  The surgeon will be here in a minute to talk to you about the surgery.  I just talked to him.  He seems competent.”

“Good,” Damian said.  “Is Alfred still in the lobby?”

Bruce nodded, “Yes.  I talked to him before talking to the surgeon.”

Damian looked down, “Um, can I see him before the surgery?”

Bruce nodded instantly, “I’ll go get him right now.”

Bruce returned two minutes later with the butler.  Alfred gave a relieved sigh when he saw the teen.  Speaking quietly, Alfred said, “Master Damian, it is good to see you looking so much better.  Did you want me for a reason, young sir?”

Alfred understood the significance of the gesture when Damian took his left hand off of Robin’s arm and held it out to Alfred.  Alfred took the hand gently, bringing a smile to Damian’s face.

“No,” the teen said, “I just wanted you.  Sometimes, you’re too patient, Alfred.”

Alfred just squeezed the boy’s hand and released a contented sigh.

A minute later, a man walked into the space.  He was wearing scrubs with pictures of sports cars, and had a blonde goatee and glasses.  Damian could tell the man was ready to make a boisterous introduction, and he preemptively warned the doctor to stay quiet.

“Keep it down.  She’s asleep.”

The doctor hitched to a stop as he looked at the girl held under Damian’s arm.  He smiled at Damian, “Girlfriend?  Nice.  You’re lucky.  My parents never would have allowed me to be with my girlfriend this late at night when I was your age.  I’m Dr. Wilson, one of the orthopedic surgeons here.  Can I call you Damian?”

Damian shrugged lightly, “Might as well.”

Dr. Wilson looked back at Robin, taking notice of her sweatshirt, “Is that Robin?”

“Yes,” Damian replied.

Dr. Wilson picked up the black sweatshirt from the chair and laughed, “Does that make you Batman?”

Damian rolled his eyes, but went along with it, “Of course.”

Dr. Wilson smiled, “I’ll have to get a picture later.  It’s not every day you get to work on Batman and Robin.”

Robin, who had woken up when the doctor started talking, sighed and reached into her pocket.  She pulled her driver’s license out of her wallet and held it up to the doctor.  Dr. Wilson leaned over with a strange look on his face.

“Why are you showing me…whoa!  You really are Robin.  Okay, the sweaters make sense now.”

Damian sighed, “Doctor, I know you are thinking you have to be seen as cool by the teenagers, but I’m not that kind of patient.  Just get on with it, so we can get this over with.”

Bruce hid his smile, and exchanged a knowing look with Leslie, who wasn’t trying as hard to hide her smile.  Bruce had spoken with the doctor earlier, and he knew Damian would have this reaction.

Dr. Wilson expertly hid his disappointment that Damian didn’t go along with his attempt to put the teen at ease.  “Okay then.  I see by your chart that this will be a knee replacement replacement.  Did you have any issues with your current knee?”

Damian shook his head, “Not until it tried to kill me.”

Dr. Wilson eyed Damian, “I can’t see Batman being clumsy enough to trip over a tree root.”

Robin sat up and said, “That’s probably my fault.  I was texting with him while he was out.  Damian has tried telling me that it isn’t my fault, but I distracted him.”

 _I don’t know if I should be proud that she’s helping cover for me, or concerned that she lied so convincingly to the doctor._   Damian would have to think about that one later.

Bruce turned and shot a glare at Damian.  Damian was the only one in the room who could tell that there was no anger behind the look.  “You didn’t tell me that, Damian.”

Damian gave a cringe that only Bruce and Robin could tell was fake, “You wouldn’t have let her come over if I told you what _really_ distracted me.”

Bruce turned to Alfred and said, “Alfred, remind me to check Damian’s phone when we get home.  I think there’s more going on here than we’re being told.”

Damian’s eyes widened as he remembered the last picture he had taken with his phone.

“Sorry about that,” Dr. Wilson said quietly to Damian.  “Now, since this is your second knee replacement, you know what to expect.  Do you have any questions before we take you back?”

Damian looked around before asking, “How long will the surgery take?”

“Three to four hours,” Dr. Wilson said, “but we’re going to let you get some rest afterwards.  You probably won’t wake up until sometime this afternoon.”

Damian swallowed hard.  _That’s what I was afraid of.  I can’t explain that to the doctor, though.  Father, and Robin, would understand._

“Um, is it going to leave another scar,” Damian asked.

Dr. Wilson took a step forward, “Can I take a look at you knee?”

Damian shrugged, “If you’re going to cut it open, I would hope you would look at it.”

Dr. Wilson took a look, then smiled, “Nope.  I’ll go in through the existing scar.  In a month, it will look exactly as it does now; just, a little less swollen.”

Damian nodded, “After surgery, what does my healing and therapy time look like?  I need to know if I should be registering for online or on-campus classes.”

“Every day you use it, it will get better and stronger.  You will probably be standing tomorrow, and walking with assistance in a couple days.  I think full range of motion should return within four months.”

 _Right.  So, I’ll be back patrolling within a month.  I can deal with that._   Damian glanced up at Bruce, to find his Father staring at him.  _Father knows that is exactly what I was thinking, too._

“Any other questions,” Dr. Wilson asked.  Damian shook his head, and Dr. Wilson said, “Great.  I’m going to go and check on the final preparations.  I’ll be back in a few minutes, and we’ll get that knee changed out.”

The doctors left and Bruce immediately turned to his son.  “What is it?”

Knowing time was short, Damian said, “I don’t want to be asleep that long.  I…I don’t want the nightmares to come back.”

Bruce smiled, “Are you finally convinced that this isn’t another nightmare?”

“You convinced me that I’m awake,” Damian said.

“This will be an anesthetic sleep,” Bruce said, “I’ll bet you won’t have any dreams.  They will put the needle in your arm, have you count backwards from one hundred, and the next think you’ll know, it will all be over, and you’ll be in your recovery room.”

Damian sighed, “But, what if I do, Father?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Bruce said.  “Tell you what.  I’ll bet you a long weekend in Alaska that you don’t have any dreams.”

Damian looked confused, “So, if I have a dream, I go, or, if I have a dream, I don’t go?”

Bruce leaned down and kissed Damian’s forehead, “How about this?  How about we get you through this, then, sometime between your birthday and Thanksgiving, you and Robin can work out a time for a long weekend in Alaska.”

Damian squeezed Robin closer to his side and smiled up at Bruce, “Thank you, Father.”

Damian’s look flattened, “One last thing, Father.  It’s about Tim.”

“What about him?”

“Don’t force him to come visit me,” Damian said, “You should call Dick and tell him that it’s okay for Tim to stay home.”

“Why don’t you want to see your brother,” Bruce asked.

Damian looked down, “He doesn’t like hospitals.  He’s scared of them.  He doesn’t have to face that for me.  I’ll see him soon enough; it doesn’t have to be here.”

“I will make the call, Master Damian,” Alfred said.

Dr. Wilson pulled back the curtain around Damian’s bed and said, “It’s time.”

Damian looked down at Robin, then reached over and wiped a tear from her cheek.  “I’ll see you soon,” Damian said softly, “That’s a promise.  Besides, you know how fast I heal.  I promise that you and I will dance before you go home.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Mister,” Robin said softly before she kissed Damian and climbed reluctantly out of the bed.

_Three Hours Later…_

“Hey, you two.  Is everything alright?”

Dick and Barbara sat on a couch in the Gotham General Hospital waiting room.  They had been half asleep before the voice entered their ears, and it was one they had not been expecting to hear.

Barbara looked up at the grey-haired man standing behind the couch, “Dad?  What are you doing here?”

Commissioner Gordon walked around to the front of the couch and sat down in a chair.  “I asked first,” Jim said with a smile.

Dick spoke quietly, “It’s my little brother, Damian.  Years ago, he was in an accident, and had a knee replacement.  Night before last, he damaged the joint.  He’s in surgery now, having it replaced.  Barb was nice enough to come sit with us.”

Barbara smiled, “I had to, since I canceled our last two dates.  He guilted me into it.”

Dick nudged Barbara, “You wanted to be here.  You love Damian almost as much as you love me.”

Jim looked around, “I would expect Bruce to be here for this.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “He demanded they set up an observation room, so he can watch.  He won’t let Damian out of his sight.”

Jim nodded, “From what I know of the man, that sounds about right.  Who is this?”

Dick looked down at the blonde head, sleeping on his leg, “This is Robin, Damian’s girlfriend.  She’s visiting from out of town.  Hell of a way to get together, huh?”

Jim eyed the girl, but his mind was working overtime.  _Someone named Robin, wearing a Robin shirt, is at a hospital, visiting someone with a knee injury.  Robin was limping pretty badly when he and Batman left the warehouse after catching Two Face the other night.  I don’t suppose…it couldn’t possibly…Bruce Wayne couldn’t possibly be Batman.  Why the hell would he put his sons into the field to get maimed and injured.  That would be insane.  Still, though…_

“So, what are you doing here, Dad,” Barbara asked.

Jim shook himself out of his thoughts, “Oh, Officer Gillespie rolled his patrol car last night during a high-speed chase.  He’s in surgery right now, too.  I’m waiting for his wife to show up.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Barbara said.

“It’s just a broken shoulder.  He’ll be recovering for a while, but he’ll be fine.”  Gordon looked up and said, “There’s Mrs. Gillespie now.  Excuse me.  I hope your brother recovers soon.”

“He’ll be fine,” Dick said.

Dick watched Gordon walk away, then whispered to Barbara, “Hey, is your Dad still trying to figure out who Batman and Robin are?”

Barbara shrugged, “Probably.  Why do you ask?”

“The way he was looking at Robin.”  Dick sighed, “He seemed suspicious of her sweatshirt.  Damian’s injury came while taking down Two Face the other night.  Your Dad saw Robin limping after everything was over.  We might have just given him enough clues and circumstantial evidence to start to put two and two together.”

Barbara looked shocked, “You’re right, he did look suspicious.  We’ll have to talk to Bruce after this is all over.”

Alfred approached the trio with a small, satisfied smile on his face, “It’s all over, and the surgery was a success.  They will be moving Master Damian to a room soon.”

Dick released a relieved sigh, “Good.  When can we see him?”

“A nurse will come for us once he is in his room,” Alfred said, “He won’t be awake until this afternoon, though.  The surgeon informed us this morning that they will keep him sedated for an hour or two after the surgery, to make sure he doesn’t try to move too soon.”

“Alfred, you must be exhausted,” Dick said, “Sit down.  You’re not on duty right now.  This is family time.”

“Thank you, sir,” Alfred said, taking a seat.

Dick leaned over and gently shook Robin’s shoulder.  The girl stirred, and Dick said, “He’s out of surgery.”

Robin gasped, then sat up and rubbed her eyes, “How is he?”

“He will be just fine, Miss,” Alfred said.

Robin wrapped her sweatshirt around her body tightly, “It’s cold in here.”

Dick smiled, “They keep hospitals cold.  It helps to stop the spread of germs.  Here, this should help.”

Dick picked up the black Batman sweatshirt and pulled it over Robin’s head.  Dick then smiled and said, “This is the closest I’ve been to my sweatshirt in months.  It would be nice if Damian let me wear my sweatshirt every so often.  I only get it back after Alfred washes it.”

“You know why he does that, right,” Robin asked.  Dick shook his head, and Robin said, “To be closer to you.”

Dick looked confused, so Robin elaborated, “Mr. Alfred washes it and it smells clean.  You wear it a couple times, and it smells like you.  It’s, I don’t know, comforting to him.  He told me not to tell you, but wearing that sweatshirt got him through the war.”

Dick smiled at the news, “That makes it worth it, then.”

Dr. Wilson approached the group with a smile on his face.  “Hey, everyone.  Mr. Wayne asked if I could come out and give an update on Damian.”

Robin perked up, “How is he?”

“He’s great,” Dr. Wilson said, “He’s being set up in a room as we speak.  The surgery was perfect.  It couldn’t have gone better if it was being written up in a textbook.  It was the definition of a textbook operation.  We cleaned out any last traces of the lubricant, so there shouldn’t be any issues of further infection.  Tell me something, though.  Damian is pretty active, right?”

Dick smiled and nodded, “Oh yeah.”

Dr. Wilson nodded, “I thought so.  Tell him to take it a little easier on this knee.  He had the last one for four years, but it had wear patterns consistent with double the standard use.  The new joint should be much better for him.”

Dick cocked his head, “Hey, Doc, I have a question.  Do these knee replacements inhibit growth?  I remember a growth spurt or two ago, Damian complained that his right leg was growing at a slower rate than his left.”

Dr. Wilson nodded again, “That can happen.  It will even out eventually, though.  Why do you ask?”

“He’s growing again,” Dick said, “Alfred already had to get him longer pants at the beginning of the summer.  I just wanted to know if he’s going to start complaining again.”

Dr. Wilson shrugged, “He might.”

“So, there were no problems,” Robin asked.  “When can we see him?”

“You can see him after he wakes up,” Dr. Wilson said, “It could be an hour or two, though.  As for problems, there was only one hitch.”

“You said the surgery went great,” Barbara said.

Dr. Wilson nodded, “It did.  Preparations hit a snag, though.  When we tell people to count backwards while the anesthetic takes effect, it’s usually a joke.  People starting at one hundred rarely make it to ninety.  Damian didn’t fall asleep until he hit fifty-three.”

Dick and Barbara both snorted a laugh.  Alfred smiled and said, “Master Damian does have a stubborn streak to him.”

“How long until we can see him,” Robin asked again.

Dr. Wilson shook his head, “Not until after he wakes up.  Probably another hour or two.  Don’t worry, he’s perfectly safe, resting comfortably, and his Father is with him.  A nurse will come for you when he’s ready for visitors.”

_Meanwhile…_

“Fii-thee…fit-two…fiddy-wa…fiddy…four-ni…ford-ay…forty-seven…”

Bruce smiled as Damian started mumbling.  He shook his head and gently held Damian’s hand, “Son, what are you doing?”

Damian opened his eyes blearily and tried to look around the room.  His eyes finally settled on Bruce, even though they took a second to focus on the man.  “Dr. Wilson told me to count backwards from one hundred.  What are you doing here, Father?  Did he get bored listening to me?”

“You’re done, Damian,” Bruce said.

Damian was obviously confused, “Done?  I just closed my eyes a second ago.”

Bruce shook his head, “You closed your eyes three hours ago.  I told you that you wouldn’t even know it happened.”

Damian looked down at himself.  With the blanket pulled up to his chest, he couldn’t see anything.  He looked back at Bruce, “It doesn’t hurt, Father.”

“Not yet,” Bruce said, “You’re still hooked up to the morphine.  Dr. Wilson said the surgery couldn’t have gone better, and gave a more optimistic recovery timeline after the surgery than before.”

“That’s good,” Damian said in a relieved voice.

The pair were quiet for a minute before Damian sighed and said, “Father, I hate getting injured all the damn time.”

“I hate you getting injured, too.”

“I’m better than this,” Damian said, “I let emotions get in the way.  I was so distracted by not letting…him, get away, that I didn’t pay attention to what he was doing right in front of me.”

“We all get complacent, Damian.”

Damian looked over and asked, “Even you?”

Bruce smiled, “Oh, yes.”

“You never had to get a new knee after you got distracted, though,” Damian grumbled.

Bruce shook his head, “No, but I’ve gotten my fair share.”

“What did you get by being distracted,” Damian asked.

Bruce leaned back, “Let’s see.  Three broken ribs, a broken leg, a punctured lung, a broken collarbone, a son.”

“Wait,” Damian interrupted, “Getting drugged doesn’t count as getting distracted.”

Bruce looked at Damian, “I wasn’t talking about you, Damian.  I was talking about Tim.”

Damian cocked his head, “Really?  He’s not here, is he?”

Bruce shook his head, “No.  Tim and Jason stayed home.  Dick and Barbara are here, along with Robin and Alfred.”

Damian heard his girlfriend’s name and asked, “Do I have to stay here overnight?”

Bruce nodded, “Maybe a couple nights.”

“Can Robin stay here with me?”

“Are you two going to be quieter than you were on her first night in town?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Yes, Father.”

Bruce smiled, “She can stay, at least for tonight.  I’m staying tonight, so I can’t see there being any issue with her staying, too.”

Damian just stared, “You’re going to be sleeping five feet away, and you think we’re going to get out of hand?  I’m in a hospital bed.  I can barely feel my right leg.  I’ll probably be asleep again before the doctor comes to check on me.  Robin and I are going to cuddle.  That’s it.”

Bruce gave a warm smile, “Still tired, kiddo?”

Damian sighed, “Yeah.  Do you have to notify them that I’m awake, or something?”

“Do you want me to, or do you just want to go back to sleep,” Bruce asked.

Damian thought for a second, “Just tell them, so we can get it over with, and hopefully get out of here sooner.”

Bruce smiled as he pushed the call button on Damian’s bed.  A young nurse walked into the room and looked at Bruce, who pointed at Damian.

The nurse smiled and said, “Oh, you’re awake.  That’s great.  Hang in there for a minute, cutie, while I call Dr. Wilson.”

The nurse left, and Damian turned a strange look to Bruce, “Cutie?”

“Don’t you think you’re cute,” Bruce asked, barely hiding a laugh.

Damian just shook his head, “The people working in this hospital are very strange.”

_Meanwhile…_

“Dr. Wilson, dial 418.  Dr. Wilson, 418.”

Dr. Wilson sighed at the page over the loudspeaker.  He looked at the Bat-family and said, “Excuse me for a second.”

Dr. Wilson walked away to answer the page, and returned a minute later with a large smile.

“Good news.  Damian is awake.  I need to go up and check on him.  Why don’t you all follow me up there?”

A larger group than was expected trooped into Damian’s room.  Dr. Wilson and the nurse gave Damian a quick examination, but Damian’s eyes never left Robin.

Once the physician left, Robin kicked her shoes off and climbed onto the bed.  Neither teen cared about the group of adults watching them.  Robin gave Damian a short kiss and said, “Never scare me like this again.”

Damian gave a soft smile, “I promised you I’d be okay, and I am.  I’m tired, though.  I think it’s nap time.”

Robin pulled off the two sweatshirts she was wearing and got under the blanket, next to Damian.  Damian looked over to where Dick was leaning over the back of Barbara’s wheelchair.  “We’re not having any wheelchair races this time, Barbara.”

The woman smiled at the teen, “That’s okay.  I’m just glad you’re okay, Damian.”

Robin reclined the bed as Damian wrapped his left arm around Robin’s shoulders.  Damian yawned, “I guess it’s bedtime.  Thanks for coming, you two, and for staying, Alfred.  I just wish I could stay awake a little longer.”

The words were barely out of the boy’s mouth before his eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out into sleep.  Robin was barely a minute behind Damian in falling asleep.

The group stared at the teens for several minutes before Barbara whispered, “Those two are just adorable together.”

“They’re like an old married couple,” Dick said.

Alfred called Bruce on the pronounced frown on his face.  Bruce sighed, “We can never make him as happy as he is with her.”

“You don’t have to compare anything, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, “You allowed the relationship to form, and allow it to continue.  She may become his wife, down the road, but you will always be his Father.”

Bruce nodded, “Thanks, Alfred.”

Dick and Barbara met each other’s eyes, then Dick said, “Alfred, you look like you’re dragging.  How about Barbara and I take you out to breakfast, then take you home.  You need your sleep, too.”

Alfred looked at Bruce, who nodded.  Alfred said, “I think I will take you up on that, young sir.”

The trio headed for the door when Bruce said, “Alfred, when you get home, you are off duty for the next couple days.  Jason and Tim can fend for themselves.  I want you to rest.  I’m sure it’s been a long time since you pulled an all-nighter like this.”

“They are more frequent than you might imagine, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, handing his car key to Bruce.

Bruce shook his head, “I’m not going anywhere, Alfred.”

“Just in case, sir, since Master Dick is taking me home.”

Bruce pocketed the key, “Thank you, Alfred.”

The trio left, and Bruce reclined his chair to take a nap.  None of the trio woke up again until late afternoon, when a nurse came in and changed Damian’s IV.

Damian looked up at the nurse and asked quietly, “What are you doing?”

The nurse smiled down at the teen, “Finally awake, huh?  You two look comfortable.”

Damian smiled at Robin, who had her face snuggled into Damian’s neck, “We are.  What are you doing?”

“Changing your antibiotics,” the nurse said.

“To what?”

The nurse smiled again, “To a full bag, instead of an empty one.  Your temperature has returned to normal.”

Damian nodded, “Good.”

“Are you feeling any pain,” the nurse asked.

Damian shook his head, “No.  How much morphine are you giving me?  We’ve been asleep all day.”

The nurse checked the machine and said, “You are at a level three.”

“Is that high,” Damian asked curiously.

“Not really.  The machine can go up to ten, but will need to be unlocked by a doctor for anything higher than a seven.”

“If I’m that low, then why don’t we just turn it off?”

Dr. Wilson walked into the room to check on his patient, “Turn what off?”

Damian looked at the doctor, “The morphine.  I have a high pain tolerance.  I’m tougher than I look.  The sooner I get off these IV’s, the sooner I can get out of here.”

“Are you sure about that,” Dr. Wilson asked, “Your knee still hasn’t had time to heal yet.  Staples and stitches can only do so much.  It takes time.”

Damian looked at the doctor with a mildly disappointed look, “Don’t talk to me like I’m some kid.  I’m not.  I know that healing takes time.  I also know that the staples and stitches have already been put in place.  Healing doesn’t require pain medication.”

Dr. Wilson nodded, “Yes, but if you can’t feel it, you are less likely to move it.  The more you move your knee before the dermis knits, the better chance there is of leaving a bigger scar.  If I remember correctly, you seemed concerned about that before the surgery.”

Damian smirked, “I asked about that for her.  Anyway, I heal fast.  I bet you that my knee is farther along than you think it is.”

Bruce snorted as he woke up and looked around the room.  Seeing the doctor and nurse, Bruce asked, “What’s going on?  Is anything wrong?”

Dr. Wilson looked over, “Hello, Mr. Wayne.  Just doing some checks here.  Your son is asking to turn off the morphine drip.”

Bruce stood and stretched before walking over to the bed.  “You sure, kiddo?”

Damian looked up, “Yes, Father.  I refuse to take pain meds when I go home, so I might as well get used to it now.”

Dr. Wilson looked back and forth between father and son, “Before we make a decision on that, why don’t we road test that knee a bit?”

Damian turned his head, “What do you mean?  You just said you don’t want me bending my knee yet.”

“I don’t, at least, not much,” Dr. Wilson said, “I want you to try standing.  Once we get you on your feet, then we can see how much you want to turn off the morphine.”

Damian nodded and shook Robin’s shoulder.  “I’m awake,” the girl said.

The bed was lowered as far as it could go, and Damian slowly sat up.  “Father, can you help me?”

Bruce walked over and Damian looked at Robin, “I’d ask you, Robin, but I don’t want you to accidently fall and land on top of me.  Father’s heavier; he provides a stable base for me to pull myself up.”

Damian turned as Robin smiled, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Lover.”

Damian took hold of both of Bruce’s hands and slowly pulled himself up.  It was the first time he had moved on his own in almost twenty-four hours.

Damian balanced on his left leg, and his eyes widened as he felt a draft.  “Where the hell is my underwear,” Damian snarled, “What did you do to me?”

“It’s procedure, Damian,” Bruce said, “I’ve been with you or watching you the entire time you’ve been in this hospital.  No one has done anything to you.”

Damian glanced over his shoulder, “Robin, can you help me out here?”

Robin stood behind Damian, “No, I like the view.”

With a small pinch to his rear, Robin tied the hospital gown more tightly around Damian.  Robin was sure that Damian cared more about the scars on his back being exposed than his butt.

Bruce smirked at Damian as his cheeks grew a small blush, “You just noticed what you’re wearing?”

“This is the first time I’ve moved since I woke up,” Damian said with a shrug.

Dr. Wilson said, “Okay, put your foot down.  Slowly.  Don’t try to put too much weight on it at first.”

Damian lowered his foot until he touched the floor.  He winced slightly, and Bruce asked, “Okay?”

“Floor’s cold.”

The nurse smile, “I’ll find you some socks.”

Damian slowly leaned to his right, still holding on to Bruce’s hands.  To Dr. Wilson’s surprise, Damian’s left foot came off of the floor.

“I think that’s pushing it a bit too much, Damian,” Dr. Wilson said.

Damian put his foot down and stood normally, “I told you, I heal fast.  It feels just like my other knee did.  When that one was working, I mean.”

Damian let go of Bruce’s hands and balanced on his own.  Dr. Wilson’s jaw dropped, “Amazing.”

Damian looked around, then pointed to a closed door, “Is that a bathroom?  I have to pee.”

“Yes, it is,” the nurse said, “I’m not surprised; we’ve had you on fluids since you got here.  You were pretty dehydrated.”

Damian reached out to Bruce again.  Taking slow, stiff-legged steps, Damian made it the four and a half feet to the bathroom.

Bruce opened the door, and Damian said, “I’m not ready to solo yet, Father.  I think I’m going to need a couple extra hands for this.”

“Do you need to sit down,” Bruce asked.

“No,” Damian said, waddling over to stand in front of the toilet, “Just hold the gown out of the way and make sure I don’t fall over.  I’ll take care of the rest.”

Damian did, in fact, take care of the rest.  Bruce helped him back to the bed, and the teen looked confused.  “How do I get back in the bed without bending my knee and without just falling over?”

“One-legged squat,” Bruce said, “I’ll hold your hands.”

Dr. Wilson said, “If you can hold your leg out straight, I can support that while you turn.”

The nurse raised the bed as Damian raised his leg.  Damian sat as Dr. Wilson cradled the leg.  Damian scooted back and turned, until he was resting in the same place he started at again.  Damian released a breath and wiped his forehead.

Dr. Wilson nodded, “Now you know why I said to take it easy.”

Damian looked up, “Doctor, for me, that _was_ taking it easy.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll have you try bending your knee,” Dr. Wilson said, “Still want me to take you off the morphine?”

“Yes,” Damian said.

“No,” Bruce contradicted, “Turn it down; don’t turn it off.”

The nurse looked at Bruce, “He’s at a three now.  I’ll lower it to a two.”

“One,” Damian said.

Bruce nodded at the nurse, who said, “Okay, a one.  That button next to the TV remote can increase the level if you need it.”

“I won’t,” Damian said as the nurse made the adjustment.

Dr. Wilson started unwrapping Damian’s knee, “I just want to take a quick look, make sure the stitches are still in place.”

Robin gasped as the wound was revealed.  Damian grabbed her hand gently and said, “Don’t look, Beautiful.  You don’t have to look at it.”

Robin kissed Damian’s cheek, “It’s okay.  That’s just…more stitches than I was expecting.”

“Everything looks good,” Dr. Wilson said, “To be honest, this might be the best-looking incision I’ve seen; especially for only eight hours after surgery.”

Damian was still watching Robin, who was growing paler by the second.  He reached up and gently turned Robin’s face, to look at his face instead of his knee.  “Hey, don’t look at it.  I don’t need you passing out here.”

Robin took a breath and smiled, staring into his blue eyes, “Thanks.  I’m better now.”

Dr. Wilson wrapped the healing wound again and said, “Try not to bend it until tomorrow.  Get some rest.  I’m going off duty now, but a nurse will check on you every half-hour.  I’ll be back on shift tomorrow morning.”

Dr. Wilson left the room while a nurse was entering notes into the computer.  Damian looked up and said, “I’d love something to eat.  I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning.”

“They won’t start serving dinner for another two hours,” the nurse said without looking at Damian, “I’ll bring you a menu, so you can get your order in once they start serving.”

Damian looked over at Bruce as the nurse left the room, “Two hours?”

Bruce smiled, “Want me to smuggle you up something from the cafeteria?”

“I’d like Alfred to smuggle me something from home.”

“Not happening,” Bruce said.

“I know,” Damian sighed, “I know this is going to sound weird, coming from me, but I could go for a hamburger right now.”

“That, I should be able to make happen,” Bruce said, coming closer to the bed, “Want anything with it?”

Damian thought for a second, “Fries, if they have them.  And a salad.  Cheese, croutons, thousand island dressing.”  Damian shook his head, “God, I’m turning into Dick.”

“You’re getting closer,” Bruce said with a smile.  “Robin, want to take a walk?  I’ve got enough to remember with Damian’s order.  I’m sure you’re hungry, too.  I might need an extra hand or two to get everything back up here.”

Robin looked at Damian, “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

Damian smiled at the girl, “I’ll be fine.”

_The Next Day…_

“Alright, Damian.  Gently, now, I want you to bend your knee.”

Damian looked at Dr. Wilson for a second before staring down at his exposed leg.  Slowly, Damian lifted his leg and angled his knee a few degrees.  Damian hissed, and Robin nearly jumped off of the bed.

“How does it feel,” Dr. Wilson asked.

“Feels like the stitches are going to pop,” Damian said.

Dr. Wilson nodded, “I told you to expect that.  How about the joint itself?”

“It’s stiff,” Damian said, “but you told me to expect that, too.”

“Right,” Dr. Wilson said, “You can put your leg down now.  That’s good progress, Damian.  Here’s what I want you to do.  Every twenty minutes, I want you to do five sets of knee flexes, like you just did.  Go slow; don’t push it.  The first set, I only want you to bend it as far as you just did.  Every following set, go just a couple degrees farther.  One of our physical therapists will be in to see you in an hour or so.  I think you’re going to impress them.  I want you to start going full ambulatory, now.  Try to walk normally, but ask for help when you need it.”

Damian looked hopeful, “Does this mean you can unhook me from these tubes and machines now?”

Dr. Wilson nodded, “Not only that, but depending on your progress today, I think we can discharge you tomorrow.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Really!?!”

Dr. Wilson smiled at Damian’s excitement, “If you follow instructions today.”

Damian’s mood fell, and he grumbled, “Great.  I’m not known for doing that.”

Dr. Wilson headed for the door, “Remember, every twenty minutes.  I bet you will be running within two months.”

“I bet you’re right,” Damian said.

Dr. Wilson left the room, and Damian sighed, “That’s good news.  I want to go home.”

Bruce smiled, “Once you start following orders, you’ll get there.”

Damian smirked, “So, you’re saying I’m never going home?”

Bruce shrugged, “Well, yeah, basically.”

“Knock, knock.”

The trio looked at the voice coming from the open door.  Robin looked confused, but Bruce and Damian were instantly on their guard.

“Come in, Commissioner Gordon,” Bruce said, “What brings you by?”

The older man smiled in a good-natured way, “I ran into Barbara and Dick in the lobby, and thought I’d come up to say hi.”

Damian looked confused, “What are they doing in the lobby?  Why didn’t they just come up here?”

“This was yesterday,” Jim said.  “I think you were still in surgery at the time.  I’m here visiting one of my officers and wanted to send my regards.”

Damian caught the look on Jim’s face and said, “Thank you for stopping by.  Oh, this is Robin Abbey, my girlfriend.  Robin, this is police Commissioner James Gordon.  He’s Barbara’s father.”

Robin smiled, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jim said.  “I’ve heard a lot about you from my little girl.  All positive, I assure you.”

Robin blushed a bit, “Thanks.”

“So, how’s the knee, Damian?”

Damian nodded as the Commissioner approached the bed, “Much better, thank you.  I should be able to go home tomorrow.”

Jim looked suspiciously at the scratches that were still visible on Damian’s cheeks, “That’s good to hear.”

“I just have to be less clumsy, next time,” Damian said.

“Oh,” Gordon asked, “What happened?”

Damian forced himself to blush a bit, to feign embarrassment, “I was walking my dog and got my foot caught in a tree root.  I wrenched my knee enough to break the replacement.  Oh, I…”

Jim interrupted Damian with a smile, “Dick told me that you had already had a knee replacement.  Be careful this time.”

“Yes, sir,” Damian said.

Gordon looked around the room before saying, “Well, I should be going.  Feel better, Robin.”

It was a calculated ploy by the former detective.  He was looking for a reaction.  To their credit, Bruce and Damian didn’t give him one.

The only reaction came from Robin, and it was one that Damian would praise the girl about for a long time to come.  “I’ll feel great, once Damian is released from the hospital.”

“Right,” Jim said, heading for the door.  “Take care of yourself, Damian.  Bruce, see you later.”

“Goodbye, Jim.”

The room fell silent.  Damian and Bruce locked eyes with each other for half a minute before Damian asked, “When did Dr. Wilson say the physical therapist would be in?”

“Should be any time now,” Bruce said, “I’ll check and see if someone is coming soon.”

Bruce stood and stuck his head out of the hospital room door.  He wasn’t looking for the therapist.

Bruce returned to his seat and mouthed silently to his son, _He’s gone._

Damian sighed and started shaking.  “How did he figure it out,” the teen hissed.

Bruce walked up to the bed and kissed Robin on the cheek, “That was perfect.  Thank you, Robin.”

Damian paled quickly and whispered, “He was staring at my face.  Tell me I didn’t just blow everything because I don’t know how to shave properly.”

Bruce eyed the healing scratches to his son’s face.  Damian didn’t like the silence from the man.  He looked up and demanded, “Father, tell me!”

“We won’t know until we know,” Bruce said seriously.

“Won’t know what,” Dick asked as he walked into the room.

Bruce and Damian both glared at Dick, causing the man to stop in his tracks.  “Whoa.  What’s that look for?  What did I do?”

“You talked to Commissioner Gordon,” Damian hissed.

Dick looked confused, and a little concerned, “Yeah, Babs and I saw him in the lobby yesterday.”

“What did you tell him,” Bruce asked.

“That we were here for Damian’s surgery.”  Dick’s look fell, “He saw some of Robin’s injuries, then he saw Robin dressed as Robin, when you were sleeping next to me.  He…he looked a little suspicious when he left.  Why, what happened?”

“He came up to visit a couple minutes ago,” Bruce said.

“That was nice of him,” Dick said.

“He called me Robin,” Damian said softly.

Dick closed his eyes and released a breath through his nose.  “Damn.  Are you sure…”

“He wasn’t talking to Robin,” Damian interrupted.

Dick looked at Bruce, “How do you want to handle this?”

“Have you proposed to Barbara yet,” Bruce asked.

Dick flushed a deep red as Damian and Robin turned to stare at Dick, slack-jawed.  “I haven’t found the right time, yet.  I thought we agreed you wouldn’t mention it until I actually proposed, Bruce?”

Damian leaned closer to his brother, “You’re really going to propose?”

Dick smiled, “I have the ring at home.  I think she’ll say yes, this time.”

Robin smiled, “That’s amazing.  Can you do it while I’m here?  I’ve never seen a proposal before.”

Damian turned his head to look at the girl, “How about when I asked if I could ask to marry you once we’re old enough?”

Robin shook her head, “That doesn’t count.  That was a proposal to propose.  And, it happened to me.  It wasn’t something I saw happen.”

“Why do you ask, Bruce,” Dick asked.

“I think we’ll need to address this situation fairly soon, either before or after the proposal,” Bruce said.

Dick sighed, “I’ll have to talk to Barbara about this.  Speaking of talking, here.”

Dick pulled Damian’s cell phone out of a pocket and tossed it to Damian.

Damian caught it and asked, “What do I need this for?  Everyone I want to talk to, or anyone who would call me are in this room right now.”

“Just because you wouldn’t usually call them doesn’t mean they don’t want to talk to you,” Dick said with a smile.

Damian looked at Dick strangely, then checked the phone.  His eyes widened at the list of missed calls and texts.  “I haven’t had this many calls…ever.  What’s going on?”

“They’re concerned about you,” Dick said.

Damian looked up, “How did they know?”

Dick sat down on the edge of the bed, “You had other plans last night, before Robin came into town.”

Damian cringed, “I missed a monitoring shift last night.”

“You would have missed it, anyway,” Bruce said.

“Tim covered for you,” Dick said, “I explained to Clark where you were.  He explained it to your friends.”

Damian gasped, “We were supposed to have training last night, too.”

Bruce smiled, “Who called, kiddo?”

Damian scrolled through the list of missed calls and texts, “Kent, Jon, Dinah, Jon, Irey, Jai, Jon, Garfield, Dinah, Jon, Lian, Jai, Irey, West, Garfield, Kent, Diana, Jon, Irey, Jai, Garfield, Jon, Jon, Irey, Dinah, Jon, Jai, and Jon.”

“You know a lot of Jon’s,” Robin laughed.

“Just one,” Damian said, shaking his head.

“Your little brother, I believe,” Dick said with a smile.

“Sounds like you have a couple calls to make,” Robin said.

Damian pushed Dick off of the bed and put his phone down, “I’ll text them after I do my exercises.”

_The Next Day…_

Damian sighed as he fidgeted in his hospital bed.  He was alone, and he didn’t like it.  As much as he had always been a lone wolf-type, Damian didn’t want to be alone right now, especially in a hospital.

Bruce and Robin had finally returned home late yesterday afternoon.  Both of them had been with Damian since he had been admitted to the hospital.  They were both in need of a shower and a change of clothes.  A night spent in an actual bed would do wonders for them, too.

Damian still had his phone, and was tempted to spend his time talking to Robin.  Unfortunately, while Dick had brought his phone, he had neglected to bring his charger, and Damian didn’t want to waste any of the five percent charge he had remaining.

True to his word, Dr. Wilson had approved Damian’s release upon examining him this morning.  Damian had texted Alfred to come pick him up, and got the return message that he would be retrieved soon.

That was two hours ago, and no one had shown up yet.

“Head’s up!”

Damian looked towards the door of his room in time to spot the long stick flying towards his head.  He caught it deftly before gasping at the person who threw it.

“Tim?  What are you doing here?  You hate hospitals.”

Tim walked into the room with a smile, “Yes, I do.  I _really_ hate this hospital.”

“Is this where…” Damian started before trailing off, not really sure he wanted an answer to the half question.

Tim took a breath, then nodded, “Yes.  My mother died in this hospital.”

“Then, why are you here,” Damian asked.

“Because you’re being discharged,” Tim said.  “I’ve always said, I won’t visit people in the hospital, but I will be the first one to volunteer to pick someone up when they’re released.”

Damian nodded, then looked at the cane in his hand, “What’s this?”

“I figured you wouldn’t be too eager to use the wheelchair when you get home,” Tim said with a shrug.

“I _won’t_ use it,” Damian said.  “The doctor wants me to walk as much as possible.”

“That’s just something to help you out,” Tim said with a smile, “I forget the actual name of it, but the shaft is an imported African hardwood.  The hardest wood on the planet, in fact.  The handgrip is titanium, and the connecting ring is carbon fiber.”

“It’s beautiful,” Damian said, running a finger down the length of the ebony shaft, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Tim said, “Now, let’s get you out of here.”

Damian looked up, “You know what this means, right?  That you came to pick me up.”

Tim asked with a laugh, “That I like you better than everyone else does?”

Damian gave an evil smirk, “That you have to help me get dressed.”

Tim shrugged as he dropped a bag of clothes on the bed, “It won’t be the first time I’ve had to do that.”

After dressing and being given final instructions, Tim wheeled Damian out to the curb.  Damian got out of the chair as quickly as he could, once they were out of the building, and took a deep breath.

“It’s good to be out of that building.  Where’s the car, Tim?”

Tim pointed across the parking lot to a low-slung, sinister-looking black sports car.

Damian’s jaw dropped, “Seriously, Tim?  You brought the Viper?  The absolute most difficult thing in the garage to get in and out of for a person who isn’t supposed to bend their knee much?”

Tim gave an evil smile, “Oh?  Gee, I didn’t think about that.  I’m sorry.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “No, you’re not, you son of a bitch.”

Tim laughed, “Get in the car, if you can.  You have two minutes before I leave without you.”

It took a minute and a half to accomplish, but Damian got in the car without pulling out any of his stitches.  Tim smiled at the teen, “See?  You’re farther along than you thought.”

Tim pulled out of the hospital and up to a traffic light.  Damian sighed as they came to a stop.  “I’m sorry, Tim.  I shouldn’t have called you that.”

“Called me what,” Tim asked.

 _He knows what I said._   “From what you’ve told me, your mother was worthwhile.  I’m sorry for calling her a bitch.”

Tim shook his head as the light changed, “Don’t worry about it, D.  I know you didn’t mean anything by it.  So, what are your plans for your recovery?”

 _Why is he so understanding with me?  I don’t think he should be so nice to me._   “I have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Thompkins on Thursday.  I have two days of lost time to make up to Robin.  How did you convince her to stay home?”

Tim smiled, “You saw her less than twelve hours ago, and she was at the hospital almost the entire time you were admitted.  That doesn’t exactly equal two days.  Anyway, I knew you would call Alfred as soon as the doctor said you could go home.  I told him to tell me first, before telling Robin.  I don’t think she’s been told you’ve been discharged yet.”

Damian thought for a second, “Well, keep the car running when we get home.  You’ll probably have to bring me back to the hospital once she sees me at home and jumps on me.”

Tim glanced over, “Speaking of jumping on you, are you two sleeping in your room tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Damian said with a sigh, “Maybe we should find a room downstairs for the time being.”

Tim smiled, “Thank you for being considerate.”

“I’m not worried about noises keeping all of you awake,” Damian said, “I don’t want to have to go up and down the stairs just yet.”

Tim nodded slowly, “I didn’t consider that.”

“Wherever we sleep tonight, I need to find it soon.  Those damn machines and beeps and buzzers are too loud in the hospital.  I didn’t sleep too well the last couple nights.”

Tim pulled into the garage and looked over at Damian, “Do you want a hand getting out of the car?”

Damian nodded, “Yes, I do.  Please.”

Tim smiled as he walked around the car and opened the door.  Tim held out his hand and let Damian pull himself out of the car.  Damian stumbled slightly and hissed.  Tim caught him and held on for a second, “Are you okay?”

Damian nodded, then turned in Tim’s grasp and hugged his older brother.  “Thank you, Tim.  I missed you.”

“It’s only been three days since you’ve seen me,” Tim said softly.

Damian cocked his head, “Wait, this is Monday, right?  Did Father go to work today?”

“Yes, he did.”  Tim smiled, “Alfred had to drag him out of bed, kicking and screaming, but he went to work.”

“Why didn’t you go to work,” Damian asked.

“I did,” Tim said, “This is my lunch break.”

“Do you have to go back,” Damian asked.

Tim nodded, “I do.  Alfred and Robin are here, though.  I don’t think you’ll miss me.”

Damian and Tim walked into the house and into the kitchen.  Tim was surprised to find the space empty.  “Hmm.  Alfred said he would have lunch ready for us by the time we got back.”

Damian perked up a bit at hearing that, “I’ve missed Alfred’s cooking.”

“You shall not miss it for much longer, Master Damian,” Alfred said, walking into the kitchen.

Alfred was followed by Robin, who stopped at the door and gasped, “You’re home.”

Robin ran at the teen, whose eyes widened, “Stopstopstopstopstop!”

Robin slid to a stop in front of the teen and asked, “Why?”

Damian released a silent breath of relief before saying, “Because you tend to jump on me, and while I usually like that, I don’t think I can handle that right now.”

“You don’t want me jumping on you,” Robin asked softly.

Damian answered, just as softly, “Not in the kitchen.  Wait until we’re someplace private, after lunch.”

_Two Days Later…_

Bruce dropped a report on his desk in his study and rubbed his temples, trying to ward off a headache.  The long day hadn’t ended when Bruce left the office.  He was on his third report of the night, and was wishing he knew how to stop.

Bruce sighed and glanced up, and was surprised to see Damian standing on the other side of his desk.  “Hey, kiddo.  How are you?”

Damian smiled at finally being noticed.  He had been standing in the study for the past ten minutes.  “Sore,” Damian said.

Bruce gestured to a chair, “Well, sit down, then.”

Damian eyed the chair, “That’s okay.  Bending doesn’t sound good right now.”

Bruce pushed his chair back and patted his lap.  Damian limped around the desk and allowed himself to be pulled into Bruce’s lap.  Damian carefully rested his leg on the top of the desk.

“Why are you sore,” Bruce asked.

Damian shook his head, “I’m pushing myself too hard, as usual.”

“Range of motion,” Bruce asked.

“Ninety degrees, maybe a little more,” Damian said, “I think I’m waiting on the stitches to come out before I try to go farther.”

“I think I know your next question, Damian,” Bruce said, “I’m taking you to your appointment tomorrow.  Or, you and Robin, I should say.  How did you get away from her?  This might be the first time I’ve seen you by yourself since you got home from the hospital.”

Damian shrugged, “She’s on the phone with her friends.”

“You’re okay with that,” Bruce asked.

Damian nodded, “Of course.  I don’t own her, Father.  I’m not petty enough to try to be her only friend.  I like her friends.  They’ve helped her to not feel lonely when she’s in Alaska.”

Bruce nodded, “Good, kiddo.”

“Anyway, she was okay with it when I talked to my friends yesterday.  I can’t talk to my friends, then turn around and tell her she can’t talk to her friends.”

Bruce squeezed Damian in a hug, “So, what brings you in to see me?”

Damian sighed and hesitated for a second before saying softly, “I’m ready to talk.”

Bruce looked at the back of Damian’s head in confusion, “Talk about what?”

“My nightmares.”

Bruce remembered the haunted look on Damian’s face when Bruce first asked about the disturbing visions Damian had experienced with his potentially fatal fever.  “Okay, pal.  Did you want anyone else to hear this?”

Damian shook his head, “I’ll tell Robin about it later.  I want you to hear it first, though.  Only you can help me with this.”

Bruce was still confused, “Why me?”

“You’ll understand when I’m done,” Damian said.  He then took a deep breath and started in.

“I had four nightmares that I can remember.  There might have been more, but these are the ones that stick out to me.  In the first one, you and I were fighting Two Face, like we did on Friday.  I was down, getting ready to attack him, but things changed.  You two stopped fighting, and he asked if I was going to attack him.  I did, but instead of hitting him, I passed through Two Face.  When I turned around, I wasn’t in the warehouse anymore, I was in my cell.”

Bruce started, and asked in a confused tone, “Your cell?”

Damian nodded, “My cell at his school.  The place where I was supposed to die.  Two Face convinced me that I was dying, and that the last three years of memories were just dreams.  Then, he sealed me in the room.

“I woke up after that, or, I thought I did.  I was in bed with Robin, and I told her about this weird dream I just had.  She was rubbing my arm, trying to calm me down, but every time she touched my wrist, it hurt.  It felt like my arm was broken, like when I was undercover at the school.”

Bruce shook his head.  He knew Damian purposely didn’t mention that Nightwing broke his wrist on that occasion.  He also knew Damian was thinking about it.

“Alfred came in to check on me, and he told me he would check my arm in the bathroom.  When I looked at the door, it wasn’t my bathroom.  It was my cell.  I didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t stop myself.  Robin and Alfred closed me in.

“I closed my eyes, I guess.  When I opened them again, I was in the hall, and I heard Robin talking to you in your room.  I went in, to see what was going on.  You told me to go back to my room.  I looked into the hall, but your bedroom door led to the cell again.  I refused to go, but you yelled at me.  You scared me.  The next thing I know, I’m in the cell, and you’re closing the door.

“I started banging on the door, and yelling to be let out.  That’s when I heard Tim behind me.  That’s when I realized I was standing in the hall, banging on my bedroom door.  It wasn’t right, though.  Tim had a shaved head and a moustache, like he did when we were at the school.  Dick and Jason joined him, surrounding me, and tried to force me into my room, which had turned into the cell.  They…they beat the crap out of me and threw me in the cell.”

Bruce had wrapped his arms tightly around his child during the retelling.  “That’s terrible, kiddo.  That was enough to make you question your reality?”

Damian closed his eyes and nodded shortly, “It was very convincing.”

Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry, kiddo.  How can I help you?”

Damian took a breath, “Every time the cell door closed, I was told to seek my answers.”

“What’s the question,” Bruce asked.

Damian sighed, “Was Two Face right?  Did I really get rescued from his school, or am I a step from death, still in that cell?  That’s where you come in.”

Bruce thought for a second, then started at the revelation that occurred to him, “No, Damian.”

“You’re the only one with access to the building,” Damian said, “I want to see it.  I want you to take me and Robin to the Janus School this weekend.”

“Why you and Robin,” Bruce asked.

Damian leaned his head back to rest on Bruce’s shoulder, “I’m not going to ask her to stay here while we go.  Robin and I almost never met, because of that place.”

“Let me think about it,” Bruce said.

Damian had anticipated Bruce would say that.  “Tim got to make peace with the whole situation by starting his charity.  I never got that chance.  I don’t want this hanging over me for the rest of my life.”

Bruce sighed, “You had to throw that out there.  This is only hanging over you due to an unfortunate circumstance and Two Face’s inability to shut up.”

Damian took a breath, “This isn’t the first time this has come up, though.  Dinah and I have spent a lot of time talking about what I had to do, and what happened to me at the school.  She suggested this trip a while ago.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bruce said again.

_Saturday…_

Bruce thought about it, and talked to Dinah, and with both Damian and Robin.  He still wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but that didn’t stop him from allowing the trip.  Bruce was sure he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t comfortable with the trip.  He was certain that only deep love for Damian, and morbid curiosity, allowed Robin to accompany the father and son pair.

“Where are we going, exactly,” Robin asked.

Damian squeezed Robin’s hand gently, “Past the north part of town, into the hills.  Decades ago, it was the Gotham Sanitarium building.  That was before Arkham Asylum was built.  Three years ago, Two Face turned it into a henchman training ground, disguised as a school for orphans and homeless kids.  They pulled petty robberies all over the city, training for bigger crimes and a place in Two Face’s gang.”

Robin gasped, “I remember that!  That was all over the news for a while.”

Damian nodded, “Father sent Tim and I undercover to find the criminals and get enough information to shut them down.  We didn’t know it was Two Face’s group until it was too late.  Tim and I got noticed.  Apparently, we make good criminals.  They started investigating us, and uncovered Tim’s identity.”

Bruce sighed, “It cost me five million dollars to keep him safe.”

“It also saved my cover,” Damian said.  “Unfortunately, I ran out of time.  I was discovered, interrogated, beaten, and left to die.”

“And, you want to go back there,” Robin asked in shock.

Damian turned to look at Robin, “It’s not like anyone else is going to be there.  I just have to see it again.”

Robin nodded, “Closure.  Right.”

A large brick building came into view as the car rounded a hill on the winding road through the North Hills.  Robin squeezed Damian’s arm tightly.  Damian looked down at her hands and said softly, “That’s how I felt the first time I saw the building, too.”

Bruce stopped the car in front of the steps, and the trio got out of the car.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through enough,” Damian said.

“Did you want to leave,” Bruce asked.

Damian shook his head, “I forgot how many stairs this place has.”

Damian’s knee was healing nicely, and he would get his stitches out on Tuesday, but it was still stiff.  Damian had made more use of his cane than he thought he would.

Robin held up the walking stick and said, “I thought this might come in handy.”

Damian took the cane with a nod, then took Robin’s right hand in his left, “Thanks.  Let’s go.”

_Inside…_

“This place is spooky,” Robin said as they entered the dimly lit building.

“No one has been in here since we busted Two Face’s gang,” Bruce said.  “Why are we here, Damian?”

Damian started heading for the stairs, “There are two things I need to see.”

Bruce said, “I still never understood this place.  How did it work?”

Damian started explaining as they made the slow climb up the stairs, “They took kids off of the streets.  We were so cold and hungry by the time we got picked up, we didn’t care where they took us.  They promised us food and warmth in the middle of winter.  Who wouldn’t accept that?

“Once we got here, everyone started on the first floor.  They were called the Prison Fillers.  Most of them earned the title, too.  The ones who showed some intelligence were brought to the second floor, which they called Vocational Education.  They kept the two groups separated.  Apparently, there had been problems in the past with jealousy between the groups.  In Vocational Education, they started the grooming process, to get us ready to join the next group.  I’m kind of ashamed to say that I learned things here.”

“Like what,” Bruce asked.

Damian said, “They taught us skills that could help to get us blue-collar jobs in the future, but could also be used in Two Face’s criminal enterprise.  For Tim, they taught him automotive care and repair.  I learned home repair, and how things worked.  I learned lockpicking skills.”

Bruce looked at Damian strangely, “You already knew how to pick a lock.”

Damian looked up, “But I’d never been allowed to take a lock apart and see all the inner workings.  I knew the general idea behind it, but until then, I didn’t know exactly how it worked.”

Damian took a breath, “Anyway, those who learned skills in Vocational Education were given a test.  If they passed, they were brought into the Criminal Group.  It took Tim and I a month to get noticed by the recruiter, almost three weeks to be brought up to Vocational Education, and another week and a half to move up to the Criminal Group.  It was another two weeks before we found out about Two Face, and everything fell apart.”

The trio stopped on the second-floor landing.  Damian looked both ways, taking a couple seconds to catch his breath, before pointing to the left and saying, “This way.”

“What are we looking for,” Robin asked, sticking very close to Damian.

“Proof that I lived,” Damian said heavily.

Damian cocked his head as he stopped and backed up.  He opened a door, and was disappointed to find a large, empty room.

“What was in here,” Bruce asked, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder.

Damian sighed, “This was the library.  This was where Tim and I started to plot the escape that never happened.  I don’t know what I was expecting to find in here.”

Bruce squeezed Damian’s shoulder gently, “When Tim started Foundation High School, they took all of the school supplies from here.  That must have included the library.”

“I guess so,” Damian said, then shrugged, “I don’t know why I wanted to see it.  Whatever, let’s go.”

The group walked down the hall before Damian stopped in front of another door.  The doors were much more closely spaced in this section of the hall than they were in the area surrounding the library.

“What’s this room,” Robin asked.

Damian took a deep breath before opening the door, “This was my dorm room.”

Damian took a step into the small, darkened space, while Robin and Bruce waited at the door, giving him a second.  The room was just a bit smaller than a standard bedroom.  The only furniture in the room were two narrow, low beds.  Damian stood in the middle of the room, staring at the bed on the right side of the room.

After a minute, he held out his right hand.  Robin came and took it, and squeezed supportively.

“I thought you said Tim took everything for the new school,” Damian said to his Father.

Bruce smiled, “Tim insisted we buy new beds for everyone.  He said these were terrible, and the kids deserved better.”

Damian nodded slowly, “He would say that.  My bed was far more comfortable than his.  It’s still a terrible excuse for a mattress, but after sleeping on the streets for over a month, it felt like sleeping on a cloud.”

Damian approached the bed and pulled the mattress back.  He pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and shined it on the bottom of the headboard.  Crudely carved into the wood, where it would be normally blocked from sight by the mattress, were two small letters, ‘DW’.

Bruce smiled at the sight, then said, “Wouldn’t it have been bad if someone found that?”

“That’s why I carved it here,” Damian said, “I would run my finger over it at night, while lying in bed, to help remember who I really am.”  Damian looked up at Bruce, “It was a really long mission, Father.”

Damian tried pulling the bed away from the wall, but couldn’t get proper leverage without bending his knee.  “Father, can you pull the bed away from the wall, so we can see the back of the headboard?”

Bruce moved the bed.  Damian shined his flashlight at the bottom of the headboard.  In roughly the same place as the two letters on the front, a very distinctive ‘R’ was carved into the back.

Bruce shook his head, “I take it back.  That one would be more dangerous, if it had been found.”

Damian rubbed his fingers over the carved letters one last time before asking his Father to move the bed back to where it was.  While Bruce was doing that, Damian and Robin waited in the hall.

Bruce joined the couple and asked, “Okay, pal.  Where to next?”

Damian looked down, “We found my proof that I lived.  Now we need to find proof that I didn’t die.  I showed you what I know, you need to lead the way from here, Father.”

Bruce nodded and waved for the teens to follow him.  Picking up the narration, he explained to the kids, “Tim, Dick, and I came in through the loading bay, when we came to take this place down.  We came straight up here, but ended up fighting with the Vocational students.  Dick and I handled them while Tim went to take down the two leaders.  We got them, and Dick took down Two Face.  The police were called out, and all of the kids were pulled out of the building.  That’s when we discovered that we couldn’t find you.  Two Face was bragging that you were dead as he was being taken out of the school and transported to Arkham.  The three of us went back inside to search for you.”

Bruce stopped in front of an elevator door, one that Damian had vague memories of.  “While searching, Dick found this elevator.  He and I took it to the bottom floor, to continue our search.  Tim had searched the attic, Dick took the third floor, and I took the second floor.  We were starting at the top and working our way down, but once we found the elevator, and the existence of three basement levels, we changed to starting at the bottom and working our way up.”

While Bruce had been talking, the trio had taken the elevator to the very bottom sub-basement.  Bruce and Damian both turned on their flashlights, and Bruce said, “The light switches are at both far ends of the hallway.”

“I can go get them,” Robin volunteered.

Damian handed her his flashlight, and Bruce said, “Look for the door with the stairs.  If I remember right, the switch is in there.”

Robin jogged off, and Damian turned to Bruce.  Bruce looked at the mildly pained expression on Damian’s face and asked, “How are you doing, son?”

Damian shrugged, “I’m glad I didn’t try to come here on my own, some time in the future.  I never want to see this place again, Father.”

Bruce pulled Damian into a hug, “We can leave anytime you want, Damian.  You don’t have to do this.”

“We’ve come this far, Dad,” Damian said softly, “I need to see this out.”  Damian sighed as the dim overhead lights flickered on, “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

Robin trotted back to the father/son duo with a forced smile.  Damian could read the look on the girl’s face, and could tell that she wanted to be there even less than Damian did.

Damian looked back up at Bruce and asked, “Where to from here?”

Bruce pointed back down the hall, the same direction Robin had just returned from, “Dick and I took the elevator down here, while Tim took the stairs.  The elevator doesn’t go to the attic, so he had to make his way down here on his own.  He was the one who found the light switch.  He nearly blinded Dick when he turned them on.”

Damian smirked, “He was using his night vision?”

Bruce returned the smile and nodded.  Robin smiled as Bruce continued.  “We had no idea where to start looking.  As you can see, there are a lot of doors in this hallway.  It makes me wonder what the Sanitarium was really doing down here, when they were in operation.  The basement levels don’t show up on the official blueprints, and this far predates Two Face’s time using this building.”

The trio stopped in front of a door as Bruce continued, “We looked for any clue we could find, and we got foot prints.  You both can see how dusty the floor is.  That night, we found three sets of prints, leading away from the elevator.  They were two pairs of adult-sized shoes, and a pair of youth-sized boots, and they led to this door.”

Damian and Robin turned to stare at the flaking orange paint on the door.  Damian looked up and down the hall, wondering how long it would have taken to search all of the doors, if they hadn’t found that clue.

“This one,” Damian asked, in a small voice.

Bruce took a deep breath, “This one.”

Damian reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed the cold steel handle.  Giving a grunt of effort, the door opened slowly.  Damian stumbled back a bit as the door, which weighed just under three times Damian’s weight, with its steel and concrete construction, swung out into the hallway.

Damian’s reaction was immediate.  A waft of cold, rank, oxygen-deprived air entered Damian’s nostrils, bringing back the terror of his nightmares, and the deep dread and fear of this place he’d harbored for years came rushing back to the surface.  Damian quaked violently in fear, and for a handful of seconds, he could see a young body, lying broken in a heap against the back wall of the small cell.

Robin’s hand gently pulled Damian over to lean against her, while also pulling Damian out of his own mind.  The image of his dead self slowly disappeared, to be replaced by a nearly empty space.  Bruce shined his flashlight into the room, slowly panning the beam around to illuminate the space.

Damian swallowed hard as a tear leaked down his cheek.  “I’m alive,” he whispered.

“You’re alive,” Bruce said softly.

“And, you’d better stay that way, Mister,” Robin said, kissing Damian’s cheek.

Damian took a hesitant step into the cell, wondering to himself exactly what the hell he was doing.  Bruce and Robin followed him in, and stopped him just a couple feet into the space.  They didn’t know what he was planning, but there was no need for Damian to push himself that far.

“How long were you in here,” Robin asked hoarsely.

“Five days,” Bruce said, when Damian couldn’t provide an answer.

Robin just shook her head, at a loss for words.  She wrapped an arm around Damian’s shoulder and leaned her head over to rest against his.

Bruce was shining his light around the space again, focusing on one corner, “Did you have a chair in here?  I don’t remember that from when we got you out.”

It took Damian a minute before he could speak, “When they brought me in here, they sat me in a chair, to interrogate me.  I wouldn’t break.  I wouldn’t tell them anything.  At least, nothing truthful.  They broke my arm, they broke my nose, but I wouldn’t let them break me.”

“What did you tell them,” Robin asked, not letting on that she had no idea who ‘them’ were.

Damian took a shaky breath, “I told them that I was a street kid, and my parents were in jail.  I told them that I started recently spying for Batman because he promised me that I would get to see my parents again if I provided information.  They bought it, but then said they were going to leave me down here to die.  They hit me with the chair; I guess they were trying to knock me out.  It didn’t, but it did smash the chair.”

Bruce took a step closer to the chair pieces, and Damian said, “I wouldn’t touch that, if I were you.  I used that corner to…relieve myself, and used the pieces of the chair to cover it.  I may have been dying, but I wasn’t just going to go on myself.”

Bruce stopped moving, and scanned his light around the room again.  Robin asked, “Hey, what’s that?”

“What’s what,” Bruce asked, shining the light where Robin was pointing.

Damian sighed at the black stains on the concrete floor.  “Those are blood stains,” Damian said, “My blood.”

Robin turned Damian and hugged him tightly for a minute.  Damian returned the hug as his emotions started to break through, and he buried his face in Robin’s neck.  Bruce didn’t think it would be unwelcomed, and pulled both teens into his arms.

Damian and Robin sobbed into Bruce’s chest for several minutes.  Robin calmed first, but Damian needed a couple extra minutes.

Running his fingers through his son’s hair, Bruce asked softly, “Do you believe me now, kiddo?”

Damian nodded shakily, “This is all real.  My nightmares were just that; nightmares.”

“You know what else, pal?”

Damian shook his head, not looking up.

Bruce squeezed the back of Damian’s neck soothingly, “You won.  You beat this place.  I don’t think it will have any power over you anymore.”

Damian finally stepped back and looked up with a tear-streaked face, “It better not.”

The trio left the cell, and Damian pushed the door closed.  The sound didn’t terrify the teen anymore, mostly because he was on the outside of the cell, not the inside.  “Let’s go home,” Damian said.

The trio headed for the elevator, glad to leave this place, and this time in their lives, behind them.

_Epilogue…_

Barbara sat in her bedroom, combing her hair in the mirror and smiling to herself.  _I think tonight is the night.  Dick made reservations at my favorite restaurant, and told me to get all dressed up.  I can’t believe this is happening.  I really think he’s going to propose tonight.  I think I’m finally ready to say yes, too._

A knock on her apartment door brought a massive grin to her face. _Eager much, Wonder Boy?  You’re usually early, but an hour and a half early is a lot, even for you._

“Come in, Dick,” Barbara called out, “It’s unlocked.”

Barbara heard her front door open and close, then called again, “I’m not quite ready yet.  I just got out of the shower.  You’re a little early.”

“Honey, you really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”

Barbara’s eyes widened dramatically, and she dropped her brush. _That’s not Dick!_

“Daddy?  What are you doing here?”

Barbara could hear steps approaching her bedroom door, and called quickly, “Daddy, I’m getting ready for a date.  I’m only wearing a towel here.”

The footsteps stopped, and Jim Gordon called out, “Oh, sorry.  I’ll just wait out here.”

“What’s going on, Dad,” Barbara asked as she pulled her dress on, “Is everything alright?”

Jim took a seat on the couch and said, “Yes, everything’s fine.  I just wanted to talk to you.”

Barbara smiled, “I have a phone, Dad.  You didn’t have to drive all the way across town.”

“I did, honey,” Jim said, “You said you’re getting ready for a date?”

“Dick’s picking me up at seven, which means he’ll be here at six-fifteen.  We’re going out to dinner.”

Barbara wheeled herself out of her bedroom, now fully dressed in an evening gown.  Jim smiled at his daughter, “Is this one of the Wayne’s fancy parties?  You don’t usually get all dressed up like that, just for dinner with Dick.”

Barbara shook her head, but blushed at the thought, “No, it’s nothing like that.  He’s been dropping little hints lately, though, and he asked me to put on something elegant tonight.  I think he’s going to propose.”

Jim smiled along with his daughter before his mood sobered, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Barbara gasped, “Did Dick ask for my hand in marriage?  That sappy fool.”

Jim shook his head, “No, he didn’t.  I’ve noticed you two getting closer, too, and I wanted to ask if this is what you really wanted.”

Barbara thought for a second, “If he does propose, it won’t be for the first time.  I think I’m ready now, though.  Yes, Daddy, I do want this.”

Jim nodded slowly, “Then, tell me, what do you really know about the Wayne’s?”

Barbara cocked her head, while an alarm bell was going off in the back of her mind, “What do you mean?  I’ve known Dick since we were teenagers, you know that.  I know you like Dick, and Bruce.  I don’t think you have to worry about Dick’s ability to provide for me.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Jim said, “When it comes to the Wayne’s, some things just don’t add up.  I understand wanting privacy, but they take it to a new level.  If I didn’t know better, I would think they are trying to hide something.  Something _big_.”

Barbara tried not to give away any tells, but she knew what her father wasn’t asking her.  _Did he figure out something he wasn’t supposed to?_

Jim leaned forward and took both of his daughter’s hands, “Barbara, I know you’re in love with Dick.  I can see it in your eyes every time you talk about him.  I just want to make sure that everything is on the up and up.  Barbara, is there anything I should know about the Wayne’s?”

 

**A/N:  Well, how about it, readers?  Is there anything Commissioner Gordon needs to know about the Wayne family?  I want to know what everyone thinks before I move ahead in my timeline.  Also, is it time for Dick and Barbara to become a serious couple?  I could go either way, with both questions, so I would like to know what everyone would like to see.**

**This, like many of my longer stories, was a combination of three ideas I had lurking in the back of my mind.  Also, like most of my stories, it’s much longer than I thought it would be.**

**Anyway, let me know what you think, and if I should keep going.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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